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[color=Silver]	The halls ahead echoed with the boot-steps of three individuals. All moderately geared up, not keeping their full uniform that would be worn on active duty, the trio moved towards the main hall of their sector in Hereford. Here, the arsenal of new recruits, at least recruits to Rainbow, would be greeted by the two trainers, and of course one of their tour-guides for the day. Gilles took to the front of the pack, wielding no equipment, only a partial part of his armour. His face was not yet concealed by a balaclava, but it was in the shadow of a skull-cap tightly fitted around his head. To his right, a thinner Mark trudged along, looking less hardened than his glory days. He sported his gear, having only just returned from potential recruitment findings. And to Gilles' left, stood a half-uniformed individual. Frankie, of course. Scooting along the floor, much like Mark, he was being forced to be introduced towards the newest members of Team Rainbow.

	As they knocked open the double-swinging doors that lead into the room where a formation of neatly ranked operators stayed. The three took to the centre of their front, slowly positioning themselves to be visible to all of them. Frankie still had his uniform on, without his facial coverage, as he began to look between all of the newest of operators. There were many high classification operators here, some that were deemed non-existent to humanity. Others were elite operators, still waiting to prove their worth in the best Counter-Terrorism Unit NATO had to offer. Obviously, they would all show their prowess on the field, but first impressions were a high importance to Frankie.

	He too, had changed, ever since the outbreak of misery across the world of Rainbow's existence. It crippled his mind, but also acted as a pushing effect for his progression. Frankie was never [i]Sonar[/i] before. He was just Frankie. Having thought of being an Operator during his time fixing, mending and maintaining all of their gear, he finally decided that this was a wake up call for him to become what the others would've wanted him to become. And so, he was very fortunate enough to gain access to the equipment selection box Fourth Echelon had to offer.

	Gilles began to talk first, having the front-centre position of the pack. He introduced himself in a loud, and bellowing tone. He'd become a hardened trainer, the hardest of them all. It was difficult to bypass him with bullets, and it was difficult to bypass him with words...[/color]

[color=0054a6][b]"My name is Gilles Tourè...For those who did their research on Team Rainbow before coming here, you might be more familiar with the term [i]Montagne'[/i]. You lot, tomorrow, will be assessed on your skills and abilities as an Operator. Obviously, we aren't going back to square one with bullshit exercise off the bat...That is for you to maintain yourself. Instead, we will be following the testing of Frank Edwards, the man to my left. He is in charge of the functioning of your equipment that you've brought with you from your services in CT Forces...We'll need you to demonstrate your arsenal before we can consider you fit for a mission...When you are ready, you will head to the Gear Management and Development Department, as assigned by the sign saying, as you'd fucking expect, G.M.D. You can ask questions to him there, and we'll account for all of you. Be there or fuck off, understood?"[/b][/color]

	[color=Silver]In all honesty, he did not care for a response. He never expected one, whether the individuals were respectful enough to respond to his question. Anyone too stuck-up enough to not were likely to be noted down into his mental notepad in his mood-zone straight away. It was the way Gilles worked. Single out the out-of-line operators, and put them back into line before the White Masks put them into a coffin.

	Soon enough, Frankie made an early departure. As he left the room, he could hear the footsteps behind him. They were going to head straight to the G.M.D. Department, right to where Frankie spent most of his days when not on a mission. Hopefully, these individuals and operators were going to be good company. He hoped for good cooperation, and the chance to perhaps strengthen a bond between a few operators, but that was unlikely due to his state. Besides, he was just Frankie, barely a fully-experienced [i]Sonar[/i]...

	It didn't take long for them to arrive, one by one. As they drew closer, he flicked out a clip-board and pen and placed it down onto the desk, waiting to serve and collect the first piece of technology being brought in by the Operators. The first to arrive was an unfamiliar one, probably located towards the back of the original rank during the very short, and brief, introduction. He stared at them, in the eye, in silence, for a short while, before nodding. Frankie was nervous, slightly. Not a good aspect of an Operator, but it at least allowed him to sink his teeth into some emotion for once.[/color]

[color=Maroon][b]"Alright...'Ello there...Name, designation callsign as given by [i]Six[/i] and [i]Thatcher[/i], country of origin, previous CT Group...aaaand...Then you can gimme your equipment...I dunno...You could tell me some sorta fact about you...or something...But...This hasn't really been a social club for a good few months."[/b][/color]