Gerry shrugged when he got lectured on how things worked around here. But when the director told him he didn't get an FAC, the operator looked wounded. He raised an eyebrow when Elizabeth started talking again. "Why am I partnered with the equivalent of a two thousand pound JDAM?" he demanded of the man in charge. If she was serious about that quip, he wanted out. How was he supposed to control that? It wasn't like he was needed at all. Put a headset on her and set her out. The fact that he was needed at all worried him. He shook his head, and looked like he had shaken it off. It was something to contemplate later, in the dark. For now, it seemed it was time to collect his new kit.

They got to the place, and he was given the usual sheet. He picked out what he needed, signed the form, returned it, and then whenever he went on an operation, this things would be there, waiting, magazines pre-bombed just the way he liked them. The earpiece he tried out right away, and he kept it, Gerry wasn't going to lose it, and it was the sort of thing that could be useful anytime. He pocketed the keys and controller as well, figuring those would be things to hold onto. Mostly he supposed he had to pick out weapons again. It was a fairly typical arrangement. The agent picked a sidearm, kitting out an M9 to his field specifications, and then he began looking through the extensive collection of primary weapons. They had everything military grade, from twenty-twos to fifties and anything and everything in between. He swore to himself, wondering what would be any good against the supernatural. He didn't know, he had to admit, he had no clue, so he fell back on his operational favourites. He picked through their collection of Kalashnikov rifles and selected one of those, along with the shortest of the M16 variants they had on hand. Depending on the operation, he would have to choose. And then, because he was always prepared, he picked out a pair of sub-machine guns as well. The man running the armoury gave him a look. Gerry returned it. After a moment the other man shook his head and threw his hands up in the air, admitting defeat. Some operators were clearly too prepared in his mind.

Not caring, Gerald filled out his sheet properly, adding notes to make sure they didn't screw up his set-up. The last thing he needed was to go into battle with a weapon that wasn't set up for his muscle memory. It was always workable, of course, but it wouldn't be smooth, and it wouldn't be pleasant. Operations that didn't go smoothly got on the evening news. He pushed the sheet through the slot with a smile, nodding to the man who had to deal with all this crap, before turning to leave. It was almost eight, and he was stressed out from all the weird shit, he needed a drink...