Thule, Greenland 0600 Hours The defensive garrison was overcome quickly, and whilst the alarm sounded across the airfield, the SU-34s had suppressed any radar-guided installations, and ground forces had seemingly come out nowhere, overwhelming the minimal base defense. Any ground aircraft were destroyed quickly, as the AN-224 was barely able to land, sliding it's fat hulking metal ass across the long tarmac runway, designed as an emergency stop if a Space Shuttle had to land here. The snow blew off, the runway barely clear, the Su-34s remaining in flight, to defend and protect the area from any radar threats. The Network had taken the airfield, and now, had to enact it's own plans. Any remaining Americans were taken hostage and the weather was closing in, with a snowstorm on the way. The local village had been cleared out, and further hostages taken, keeping them indoors. They would be useful, at the least, as the sun barely poked above the ocean, the middle of the season showing signs that there would be at least a 12-hour cycle, rather than perpetual night or day. Why take Thule? That was simple. The militants there did not question, but were acutely aware of the inteligence potential, and the radar capability of the station. It was a nuclear warning station, but more than that, a radar sensing station, and unbeknown to many, had far more to do. After all, getting to Thule was nigh on impossible for any paramilitary group, and defence had been seen as impossible. But this one was better equipped, better armed, and more prepared than any to make its incursion. It was going to mine the data, and kill the hostages when it was done. The Arctic was a big place, and while every nation would hate them, including even the Russians, they had their places to hide. They had their strategy for the endgame. -------------- Natalie headed into their armoury, a flat grey vest on and a pair of jeans, which were a little more casual than her officer's garb. Her hair was a little more arranged, with an undercut being something she requested for herself, her hair a little more arranged at the back, shortened up a little. It was there for one reason. Operation time, as she saw Victor come in. Her carbon-black suit sat there, attached by the set of connectors that held it to the roof, looking like it would almost pull in the ceiling, from the weight that it had. Of course, advanced composites and titanium helped, but the sheer size and armour was never something Natalie got over, the same as it was on Victor's, of course. The suit had been repaired and reengineered once more, to her standards, and it was ready to go again. A .50 cal, low-RPM and lightened GAU-19 sat in the suit's hand, as it always did, with an ammunition backpack a standard, but the harpoon in the left was a little more...well, retooled. While Victor had expanded his close quarters arsenal, she had changed hers up too, with something a little more interesting. The harpoon was now a lot more powerful, with a tank of compressed air wedged inside the suit's innards, and could be charged throughout time passively, regenerating it. The tungsten-titanium cable was retractable with a motor, and what was more, was that motor was now actively powered as a two-way, meaning she could literally now pull people off their feet, rather than just use it as a giant skewer to go through multiple people at once, such was it's power. But she could also use it to pull the weight of the suit, and interestingly, it could pull her upward, by about a couple storeys, albeit on a strong surface in order to do so. It was ridiculous, but it could do it, and with a stronger motor, could be even better. Of course, she had her classic blade, Athena's Wrath, at the suit's hilt. Shit like that made her chuckle. Here she was, charging in with a fucking stupidly oversized minigun, a harpoon, and a sword. There was little room for any other weaponry, but her twin .50 Deagles sat on the suit's chest, alongside a number of grenades, cluster grenades, smokes and other bits and pieces. It was an elegant suit of armour after all, the carbon-black and honeycomb-black making it look like something futuristic indeed, with the blue visor lighting up as she checked the helmet over. "Ah, Victor. There you are." She said, looking across, standing by it's side. "Deployment starts in one hour. Suits on, kit ready. We're headed to Iqualit, Nunavut, and we should recieve word on our further transportation from there to a situation at Thule AFB, Greenland." She said, looking at her suit's internals, before back at Victor. "I just installed a heating system inside. I hope yours has one. Or is the big Bear gonna have to cuddle the Brute all the way there?" She asked, chuckling as she pieced it apart, grabbing the rest of her kit, packed in a ready-to-go bag for long travel and deployments, looking at the suit once more as she looked to Victor. "Forces are expected to be advanced, Russian-styled, unknown numbers but ranges from 100 to 500. My people say it isn't them, and the last trace is an AN-224 flying from Murmansk Airport in Karelia on a standard commercial job. And they pulled a fast manuever on us, not even the Russian Air Forces found out about it, so we couldn't stop them before they left our airspace." She said, refering to her own contacts in the Spetsnaz, and what she knew. While it would seem like a feint attack from the Russians, it wasn't them, and she knew full well that with the co-operation and shared concern of the Russians against the militant threat, it had to be real, not some green men. "Turns out, they were carrying two SU-34 aircraft inside, and two more joined from an unknown source. They went in totally undetected, and a chartered and unauthorised airliner took the rest of the men there. It's a hostage situation, we've got only rare reports that they've taken hostages, but have issued no demands. Weather conditions prevent us from knowing anything beyond an infrared satellite scan, and due to those, we can't deploy a significant number of soldiers, and the terrain is near-inhospitable, with a large urbanised component in the base itself. So the faster we are there to break open the party, the better. We're going to have our friends join us, which may help." She added, moving around swiftly, gearing certain stuff up, before ditching her vest, revealing her bra-containing chest. She quickly found her thermals, not letting Victor gaze too long, pulling them tight over her immense body and legs, her muscular frame clear through their soft touch, as she began opening her suit up. "The rest we'll be briefed en route. But I would expect anything. Anti-air, anti-ground, anti-infantry, they could throw literally anything at us. We've got specific weapons packages available on the C17 out to Iqualit if we want to choose, so we can keep our options open till then." She added, knowing she was being busy, and that Victor hopefully could soak it up, although she knew chances were, he was probably still envisioning her boobs once more. "You could say....we're going to have to stay frosty, right, Victor?" She said, giggling as Russianly as possible, as she began the process of sliding into the armour, the blue padded suede visible as she slowly slipped inside, sliding herself into the garb of an armoured titaness, feeling the exoskeleton in the legs kick and whirr up, the visor fire into life, the holographic blink and voice-based display picking up the user inside, and everything with it, Sliding her hands in, she clenched the suit's fists, and put her hands back, sliding her helmet off, brushing her blonde hair open, as the helmet pushed onto the back of her neckbrace, as she breathed out, moving slow, the armour in her hands feeling ready, and waiting for action. "Fuck....I have missed this thing." ---------------- Somewhere at FOB Grimsby, Afghanistan Andrew watched on, spotting device in hand, as he looked to the sniper, and back at Carl. "You bet your ass he can. I'm not getting involved. You're gonna owe beer when he's done." He said, looking back down the range, then back at Carl, shaking his head, letting Nolan get on with the task at hand. Ross peered on, looking to Carl, as he watched quietly on at the snipers setting up shop in the FOB's long-range firing position.