The parajumper’s heart pounded in her chest, a loud deafening beat in the silence of the water. It was dark all around apart from the small displays in front of them and she couldn’t help but feel nervous as they continued to float along in the water. She took slow, regular breaths through the rebreather as instructed, though it took every bit of willpower in her to do so. She hated this part, it scared her to no end. The thought of drowning the inky black depths of the Mediterranean filled her mind and her breath caught in her throat. She closed her eyes for a single moment, trying to relax herself and slow down her heartrate once again.

"Okay, Duchess, prep the periscope. Let's get us a look on the approach."

Oakley flicked a switch to begin extending the periscope and switched her screen to the camera view. After a view seconds she was a rewarded with a monochrome view of the shoreline, the island filling the screen. She examined the coastline, picking out a few figures here and there which were presumably lookouts. 

“Alright, I’ve got two tangos at the boathouse, presumably armed. Otherwise, we’re invisible to anyone else on the island from here on in.”

Oakley reached down and switched her radio to the alternate channel, glancing back down to the screen. Amongst the buildings a .50 cal had been mounted as a defense and was barely visible to the camera.

“Echo White, be advised that there is one visible mounted gun position overlooking the camp. It’s gonna get messy if they find out we’re here and that MG is still up. Over.”

Oakley habitually looked around herself for threats, only to be met with darkness. She lowered a hand to check her sidearm, before returning her gaze to the nearing shoreline on her display. Distance check, three quarters of a mile and closing, the details of the landing zone and boathouse now becoming more and more clear on the screen. She glanced over to Niko and nodded. There was something she liked about him, whether it was his discipline to get shit done or the carefulness shown towards the approach. Either way, she was glad to be paired with him.

“Half mile to go, how far can you swim?” Her voice was playful, as if challenging him-- no, daring him to ditch the SDV now. It was evidently meant to be a joke however. She knew better, exhaustion from excess swimming would negatively impact her ability to place accurate shots and they still had a cliff face to scale.