[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pAgnJDJN4VA]
[h1][centre]Back in Black[/centre][/h1][/url]
[h3][centre]Forget the hearse 'cause I'll never die...[/centre][/h3]

It was crisp and cold outside. Unusually cold. -10, and it was only December. She would get if it was, say, January or February, but there was snow on the ground. Coming from the south, it was no small thing to Jessica. On the other hand, she might be experiencing her first White Christmas, so there was always that to potentially look forward to. Jessica was currently wearing full combat uniform, minus her armour and headwear. Combat boots were tightly laced up, with the so-dark-they-could-be-black navy combat trousers on. She had strapped her kneepads on as well, even if they were a tad uncomfortable- since she was going to take the troops to the killhouse. There were a lot of people from a lot of different sources. Lots of soldiers- marines and rangers. She wasn’t intimidated though. LAPD was no cakewalk.

She opened her mouth, ready to welcome in this new crew, and then the department phone went off; one that was only to be used for when the S-SWAT team needed to be called out for a mission. She raised an eyebrow and picked up the phone, saying “ACPD S-SWAT Division here, what’s the emergency?” There was the faintest noise of surprise in her voice- she certainly hadn’t expected a callout within two minutes of opening the door for the first time. Not that she was complaining.

“Oh thank every goddamn different kind of deity. The department weren’t given your number and we needed you half an hour ago; there’s been an S incident* at a warehouse dockside, seems a sorcerer got their hands on some corpses and were stashing the zombies in a shipping container. They started banging on the crate, some cretin of a worker opened the door and was killed. The rest evaced safely, and police have established a cordon, and the door’s locked. Perfect for the S-SWAT is what I believe force commander Grady sad.” Jessica listened to the panicked 911 operator on the other end of the phone. Zombies, warehouse, one casualty. Not brilliant, but certainly not awful.

“Aright, thanks for the info. The team’s all here, so we’ll get suited and booted. ETA half an hour, give the boys on the ground the good news.” She was grinning into the phone, not caring about the department cock-up with the phone numbers.

“Alright. I’ll pass the news on that Alpha Team will be incoming. Good luck.”

“Thank you. Have a nice day.” 

She clicked the phone down and turned to the assembled troopers, raising her arms out wide. “Well then ladies and gents, it seems we have a tiny delay on the grand welcome speech. We’ve been called out, so let’s get suited and booted. Don’t bother with the lock picking machine or the spy camera. It’s a warehouse full of zombies.” As soon as the message had been delivered she turned and began walking over to the section that held all of their gear. She was already wearing her field clothing. This was certainly better than a killhouse when it came to seeing just how competent her new charges were, even if it was far more dangerous.

The only thing that she didn’t have on was her balaclava and her armour. The Raider would be useful, especially since she would be taking point. The suit was heavy and clanked softly, although she didn’t care. This had saved her life more than once back in the LAPD, and to have another set of the suit out here was brilliant.

As for weapons… She pulled down her carbine from the wall, before considering what to take. Pistol, shotgun and machine pistol. All of them had advantages to them, but she didn’t know quite which one. Hmm… Decisions… Serbu. She made a snap decision and picked up the miniaturised shotgun, unfolding the foregrip as she did so. She gave the gun a quick one over, before loading the shell rack up, followed by the gun herself. There was a safety, and she doublechecked that it was on, and then strapped it up to her mesh. Next was what she would otherwise take… Normally with this set up, she would take tear gas, but against zombies that would do almost nothing. Smoke, which would deny their sight and render the walking dead as stupid as the name suggested. Combined with the buckshot for the underslung launcher, and she was feeling good about her equipment. The first shots of adrenaline were running through her body. Before every mission, this would happen, and she relished it. It was a glorious feeling, and the one that gave you that capability to make lightning fast decisions on the field.

Time to lock and load people. 

*S Incident: A crime committed by a supernatural, or of a supernatural nature.