[h2][sub][b][color=salmon]William Carpenter[/color][/b][/sub][/h2] Former Staff Sergeant William "Pegasus" Carpenter, United States Recon Marines, was the first to the staging area of their first training operation outside the resident killhouse. Five minutes after he had finished buckling on kneepads, light tactical armor, and readied his helmet and weadpons, the first other man showed up. Some half-hour later, their commanding officer, a POGE former police officer by the name of Jessica Chang, waited for them to assemble and was just about to say something when her phone went off. Carpenter suppressed a twinge of annoyance, remaining impassive and casually standing to throughout her phone call. And then... came the orders. They were dealing with a warehouse full of zombies, apparently. Join a supernatural unit, deal with zombies on day one. PEGASUS resisted the urge to facepalm, and groan from how... weird shit became all of a sudden. He signed up for this and all, but he still found it difficult to take [i]zombies[/i] seriously. Maybe seeing the undead flesh-eaters in person would beat some seriousness into him. He didn't allow any of his skepticism or his reservations show, however, and instead equipped his second loadout. Vector .45 with ten 25-round capacity magazines, filled with .45 RIP rounds, plus accompanying M1911. Against a bunch of undead beasties, the Vector's two-round burst and his precision reflexive aim would be more than enough to deal with them. A double tap to each head would probably do it. Still, it wouldn't hurt to make sure he knew what they were up against. "Permission to speak, CO," he formally requested, calmly meeting the younger, less hardened SSWAT Commander. When given permission, in whatever form, he continued. "What kind of... undead are we facing? Are these Rick Grimes shambling mindless zombies, that go down with a headshot, or what else? If all it takes is a headshot, then I'm more than equipped for that. And how many are we facing? Do we have a map of the combat zone?"