Gerry wasn't too impressed by the information he was being given. He'd gotten into his house and taken all of his files to his little office corner of his bedroom. The reading had started was not promising. The files were light. It was never good when the files were light. There wasn't much in the way of specifics. Nothing said shit show like a lack of specifics. There were some details on his partner, and they were nice, but he didn't much care what she could do. The operator read it anyway, though. He figured it couldn't hurt. He didn't learn much, other than what he supposed he already knew. But he wasn't sure if you could actually know something, if it was only ever believed to be fiction. He shrugged it off, the agent wasn't worried about this crap. He cared even less about the armoured guy, he looked stupid, hopefully he didn't act it. When he finished that file, he shook his head, wondering what the hell these people were thinking. "Next their going to tell me that this has been going on for centuries." he muttered to himself. The files got tossed into his desk as he finished them, and the last one to go was the one on the mission.

It seemed simple enough. They were looking for high value targets. They were supposed to arrest them. He wasn't sure that would happen. "He said he read my file. How the fuck am I qualified for this shit?" he asked himself. Gerry could vividly remember the last time he tried to arrest someone. They had died. But he shrugged that off too. There had to be hard copies of their research, and he'd rely on that. No one would put this stuff on the internet, so there had to be filing cabinets full of stuff. That could all be collected and air-lifted out or something. Then he grimaced. They didn't get air support. He swore to himself, wondering how they would extract high-value targets without air support.

"And how the fuck are we going to get there?" still confused, he scanned the rest of the file. "Sounds like a load of shit. I bet its just a bunch of terrorists fucking about." he chuckled, they wouldn't be doing much of anything pretty quick. Then he noticed the note at the bottom of the file. He frowned. "Why don't we just make bullets out of gold or diamonds? Why the fuck is that even a thing?" he shook his head. Apparently he needed fancy bullets. Hopefully the armoury got that memo, he wasn't going to deal with it now. The operator shook his head and tossed all of the papers into a drawer. "Fuck it. I'm done." He got up and starting getting ready to go to bed. He'd deal with anything that came up, as it came up. He had sleep to catch up on...