[center][i]Beep. Beep. Beep.[/i][/center]

Andrew rolled over in bed and sighed. He fumbled for his alarm, hand clattering around. Finally, he got the button, rubbed his eyes and stood up. Morning routine came and went. Get up, piss, brush teeth, shower. Downstairs, toast bagel, then eat bagel. Then he looked at his radio and realised the day. His first day with the S-SWAT team. His first time interacting with supernaturals since his time with the rangers a few years ago. 

[hr]

He suited up in something simple. Black cargo pants, long-sleeved grey T-shirt, his favourite beanie, a pair of gloves, and then his jacket. Even his car was freezing cold as he drove into the station. It was early enough that it wasn’t filled with people going about their business, and cold enough that those that were weren’t much interested in the attachment to the police station.

He plipped his car shut as he walked away, and entered. A few admin staff, a few troopers... What he expected. He went to his personal locker and stashed what few items he had on him inside- phone, wallet, keys, jacket. Ooh, there was a USB port for charging his phone. He needed to remember that in future. He locked it shut and gave the tumbler a quick spin, before asking the receptionist what the armoury passcode was. Answer in hand, and he decided to give his gear a once over.

First off was his revolver. He was glad to see it had made it over fine, and he picked it up, going over it. As one would expect, it had heft behind it, Andrew turning it over in his hand. The light barely glinted off of it, whilat the handle had been specially made to fit comfortably in his hand. The cylinder made a click as the latch that kept it sealed was unlocked, and he span the cylinder once before clicking it back shut. Then came the suppressor. It was almost as long as the barrel itself, although part of that was his own doing. Screwing it on- the addition stopping just before the porting started, he gave a peek through the ironsights. All in good condition. Wonderful.

He gave his stake a once-over, making sure the blade was nice and sharp, and then moved onto the ballistic mask. The cernaic face stared back at him, and he rapped it once, hard. It all looked good.

Perhaps fifteen minutes later, and Alpha squad had been established. Just as their new commander began to talk, the phone went off. Seemes like they had a job, and as she turned around, his suspicions were confirmed. Zombies. Alright, that was a lot better than what they could have gotten for their first operation.

One of his new colleauges asked an... interesting question, considering the job he was in. Perhaps he’d been fast tracked from a police role? “If I may. Zombies are... Revived corpses. Rotting is halted whilst they’re reanimeted, but rigor mortis makes them stiff, but they also take a lot of gunfire to bring down. Real danger comes from their fists, and if the necromancer who revived them is nearby, they can be quite clever. As long as we have range though, we have the advantage. Handily, their eyes glow when they’re active. Just pump lead into them until they no longer glow. Oh- and they use most of their senses to hunt. Eyesight is most important for them however.” He shrugged

Once that was done, he got suited. The cargo trousers he was wearing right now were close enogh to regulation, but he would need to change a bit. The raider armour, unlike every other piece of equipment, could be worn underneath his jacket, and over that he put his carrier. Revolver in his thigh holster, and he picked up the Bernelli. Reloading the shotgun came easy to him, and he filled the side rack up next. He racked the slide back, making sure it was all nice and clear, before hooking it up to the strap.

He picked up his face mask and sat down on one of the benches, gauging the rest of the crew.