Imran was watching them come down, already a smirk on his face, as he watched the Osprey touch down, rolling onto the taxiway.as he looked at the ramp at the back opening up.
"Good to see you, welcome to Bouvet Island. The most remote island on the planet." He simply said, watching the two men emerge, one wearing a fairly moderate set of medium armor, wheras other just wore a shirt and some trousers, and looked...different. He looked normal, but something to Imran suggested he had something within him, something Imran had a feel for. It wasn't normal.
"Anyway, I hear good things, especially of you, Spectre. We're going to have to settle you into the place, the team's all over the place. But there's quarters for you, and training begins in three hours. Name's Imran Malik, or Raven. Remember it." Imran said, as he looked over.
"We're nice people. But think this is a party palace, you decide to threaten one of my men, you won't have time to think of consequences. I keep a stern eye on new candidates. One that tends to pick the weakest quick. The hardest, toughest, and ultimate warriors survive here. And my job, is to make sure that you A), hit that category, and B), Maintain it. Don't meet either, you get flown out, and you go back to whatever you came from. But I keep some details close, ones you wouldn't like to know about that process." Imran said coldly in his harsh Anglo-Pakistani accent that sounded posher than any, as he looked over at the Osprey, hovering over to a different position, where it headed to fuel and get the crew onto the tarmac.
"Follow me, gentlemen. You will be sorted out in time. But you'll be forged in fire. We test people differently. Physically, mentally and psychologically, you pass, and you go through every requirement we ask of you. Except one. The Scimitar Test." Imran said, chuckling.
"The fucking, Scimitar Test. It has a 70 percent survival rate, and from that, only twenty percent go through. 20 percent. Know how much that is?" Imran added, looking over.
"We took 30 people last year. 30 percent are sadly dead of that bunch, so you know, nine people have had to be buried in the ice and remain MIA. Both giants, people this high, people like you. Then twenty percent, six- six fucking people, in one year, actually passed. From those, I'll pick who goes through, and who goes back based on any other judgement. Make no mistake- got a problem with the system, you can ask anyone in that bunker there...or anyone watching the pair of you from either close or afar, that it's a fairly good system to really weed people out. And no, don't think of anything conventional." He added, as they headed for the bunker, a lift available, as they headed for it. A set of stairs went down, but the lift would be more handy, for getting to the subterranean quarters. 
"I like getting into the nitty gritty, to get you aware of what comes. But I won't give it all away, that's harsh. It will push you beyond physical and mental limits, and will break you into a million pieces, before asking what's left of you to sweep away the pieces." He added, as the lift took them down.
"The unexpected void, the total confusion and the lack of orientation is what kills people. I'll give you that advice. You won't be in a reality that perhaps you'd be operationally trained for. And just if you tell me you're the best awarded soldier out there, the ultimate. You may not pass. Those who do, have a very different way of thinking. A way of thinking that fits with Scimitar's." He added, as they came to the quarters level, as the cage opened up.
"Yours is at the end Spectre, and Iceman, yours is on his right. Numbers ten and eleven. They are barebones empty, but make yourself at home and add what you want. You'll be brought to the test in time. You seem nice, so try not to die. I can't spare the paperwork. Have fun." Imran said, walking back into the lift, as he looked back.
"One last thing. If you do decide this isn't for you, now is your chance. We'll put you back on the Osprey, fly you to Cape Town, and you'll be back in Afghanistan in no time. With some changes, of course, that come with the process of being here unauthorized and out of Scimitar. You understand?" He said, looking with a steely look, into both of their eyes.

Svetlana gave one last hard rep, dropping to the floor hard, as she stood tall. She wondered about Bjorn- since the op, he had been rather quiet, just wanting to go to his room to think. So even though Svetlana gave no real developed thought to men, at least talking as a friend would get it out of him. It wasn't right. Walking into his room, he saw him there, just leaning back on his bed, just a bit down. She shut the door, the light on inside, a window in the concrete actually displaying the snowy ice outside, though it was just a video feed, to simulate a glacier view. The sealed door was soundproof, to a relative extent, and could only be opened by Imran, or Bjorn. The fact he had left it open had let her walk in, however.
"Hey." She said, looking over, already leaning against the wall, looking inside, at his stuff in general, and the Swede on the bed.
"You look like shit, to be fair." Svetlana said, aware that Bjorn was heightened in her presence, but she just wanted to talk, for now at least.