[b]'Not sure we can completely avoid bloodshed, but if you want to go non-lethal that's your choice. Just be careful.'[/b] It wasn't as though he didn't sympathise, after all these were his countrymen, but sometimes you had to break a few eggs for that omelette. Duncan glanced at Griffone, mentally deciphering her hand signals. Curiosity plagued him and he wondered for a long moment if she was perhaps mute or deaf. She wouldn't be the first handicapped SeeD to prove her doubters wrong. [b]'Sounds... uh, [i]looks[/i] like a plan. Minerva, it's up to you how you play it, just take that guard down. We'll handle the other one. Fresno? Stay behind her, look like you're holding chains or something. When she attacks, stand back and let her handle it. No offence, but we've got more training on this kinda thing.'[/b] The soldier grimaced, clearly annoyed by Duncan's implications, but nodded regardless. [b]'Alright. I think the armoury's through there, so once these guys are down, you'll be able to get your weapons. Probably.'[/b] That drew a dry smile to Duncan's lips. [i]Confidence. I like it...[/i] [b]'Alright then people, get to it. Griff, lead on.'[/b]

He followed as Griffone crept into striking range, hugging the shadows as he moved. Unfortunately, these guards weren't making it easy. They had to freeze a couple of times when one got bored of staring straight ahead. Nevertheless, they were in position by the time Minerva and Fresno were in position. One of the guards stepped forward, hefting his gun menacingly. [b]'Stand to and identify yourself. I weren't told about no transfers today.'[/b] For once Fresno was grateful of his helmet's thick visor. His eyes jumped erratically from one guard to the next, his heart in his throat. He had never done shit like this before, dammit, anything could go wrong. Despite his nerves he managed to reasonably calm response. [b]'Agent Mako requested this one be moved upstairs. Prisoner Number...'[/b] He made it up, praying that they didn't know the manifest. [b]'... 7747.'[/b] The second guard perked up, cocking his head in confusion. [b]'Wait, I thought 7747 was that fat dude from Dollet?'[/b] [i]Shit. Shit, shitshitshit![/i] Duncan realised they couldn't wait any longer. If the guards had a chance to question further or worse, radio in for confirmation, their cover was blown. He darted forward on the closest guard's blindside, throwing the now useless breadknife past the guards as a distraction. Even putting all his weight behind the stab, Duncan was barely able to pierce the man's armour, cutting just deep enough to sever the spine. One guard was down, it would be up to the others to take the second. Suddenly, inexplicably, he had a very odd feeling of foreboding... Not in the immediate sense, not like he was about to get shot, but... but like something much worse was coming.

[hr]

Guard duty. Guard duty on top of more guard duty. That's all Army life was nowadays. Never any action, any [i]excitement.[/i] Admittedly, the life of a Galbadian soldier had never been a great one, what with the bipolar officers and atrocity quotas. Still, since the old President had died things just hadn't been the same. With that in mind, it was an almost pleasant surprise for the gate guard to see a pair of vehicles approaching the prison, including one in the distinctive livery of Galbadia Garden. The soldier cocked his rifle and jogged out to meet the oncoming car. Even in these times, Galbadia Garden has a special relationship with the Army, but that didn't mean they could do whatever they damn well wanted. [b]'State your business here SeeD!'[/b] He raised his rifle threateningly. In hindsight, it might not have been the best idea.