[b]The Meeting[/b]

They mentioned being hungry. Zesiro was not usually very vocal in these meetings. However, he did NOT want to be sent out to get food the way he was always sent out to fetch coffee. He was an [i]officer [/i]not an intern, [i]right[/i]?

"Twian would be your best bet for that." Zesiro grumbled "He knows all that shit. As for going back... Did anyone else notice that we almost died? And some of us actually [i]did[/i]" He shot a dark look at Rozalind. All the TRIDENT fatalities had been members of her team, TIGER. 

"Fuck that." He put his hands on the table. "That dragon-thing might still be there ready to fry us, OR it is gone looking for food. Either way that is a problem."

"We also might actually have the drop on these guys. They didn't survive to report to their boss that we there. The boss might send someone else to see what the hell happened to their little magic experiment. I don't want to be there when they come back. They might already be there. I know they fucked up, but they are [i]not [/i]amateurs."

He leaned back in his chair and put his boots on the table.

"Also. Why do you all speak English?" When Charles had decided to show off his French, Zesiro noticed that the others didn't understand.