Elena bypassed the airport's customs to the curious and mildly amused [and interested] gazes of several officials, the Masrani representative and U.S. Air Marshall hustling her to a waiting vehicle outside. They didn't really want her to be seen, considering what she was wearing, and the suspiciously shaped bundles thrown over her shoulder with her backpack. She did, in fact, look decidedly military, or more likely paramilitary, and her stance and posture told anyone who glanced that she was [i]very[/i] excited.

Driving to the small port where they’d launch from, to start their mission, she turned to the US Air Marshall, who was on orders from both the US Government to clear her and ensure she didn’t encounter any trouble, armed as she was. 

“Thanks Billy! It’s amazing what you spooks can do, getting all my stuff brought on a public flight without any problem at all. Ten out of ten, I’d say! Definitely would fly again. You’re not joining us on the island, are you? A shame, it’s gonna be great!”

She beamed at Air Marshall Travis Billard, causing the slightly younger, very definitely less experienced Marshal to actually blush. Nonetheless, he was exceedingly aware of the weapons that she casually carried, if hidden underneath a jacket, and her status as a former Marine. Crazy bastards, he thought. She [i]wanted[/i] to travel to an island filled with man-eaters. 

Pulling through crowds of the natives, the small airport-loaned van stopped to let her out on the curbside. The Masrani rep followed her out, the driver and the Marshall staying in the vehicle. They were going to be taking the Masrani back to the airport; the guy was just escorting her. Unlike the rest of them, this one was clearly uneasy at her presence, and was maybe fifty years old. Nonetheless, she kept pace with the rapidly-walking representative and stared curiously at everything. The smaller utility ferry, the loads of supplies, the few other people already assembled. She recognized the mission’s Masrani representative immediately, and began striding over to him. Her escort happily broke off and went to return home.

Stopping in front of the man- Tuvya, she recalled- and a couple of others, she stiffened, her face sobering.

“Hired Security Specialist Elena Berezina, reporting for the last dinosaur tour!” she said, voice serious and clear, devoid of emotion or accent. After a moment, she couldn’t resist smirking slightly, and adding, “I’m your resident mercenary!”

And, being the forward and outward person she was, she jutted out her hand, silently demanding to shake everyone’s hands, going around to all of them. She stared curiously at Meryl’s handcuffs, but said nothing. It didn’t matter to her, not really. She’d withhold judgement, and besides, she might have to place her life in any one of these people- better not to hold a grudge against anyone here.

“I’ve served with the Marines as a Navy Corpsman for just short a decade. We get attacked, I’m your girl!”

She grinned at them all, and shifted slightly underneath the weight of her gear. She couldn’t wait to get back in the field. 

“So where should I put my stuff?”