Jack sat in his barracks room standing over a table with what looks like a crude model of a compound. His old military training kicking he stared at what during those days had been called a "sand table". Missions are planned and executed based off a small model of the objective area and Jack recalled this training using everything he'd seen at his time in his target. Walking over to a shelf he removes a bottle of Johnny Walker Black Label and pours himself a glass. Jack downs the glass in one gulp and pours a second to drink a bit slower. Thinking of the people he'd brought back gave Jack pause after all they have been through he was happy they'd trusted him. The place had plenty of bottled water and food if you considered MREs as food the group would be set for a good bit of time. Ammo and rifles hadn't been to diminished when he first arrived.

"I can't have them help me" Jack spoke to himself out loud.

They had been through too much and were too broken inside to help Jack in his assault as he'd initially planned on asking.

"Fuck it, I'll have to do it myself." Jack said picking up his M4. He walks over to a large locker and grabs out two heavy looking duffle bags. Downing the remainder of the Black Lable he sets the glass down.

"Time to bring her home" Jack says softly as he opens the door to his room and sets out on what could be considered by most as a suicide mission.