Victor walked into the Armory, holding the rebuilt and lightened Denel with on single hand. Most people would have to carry the thing with a team of 2 maybe three, it's still a GMG after all, yet this is of course Victor Kanatario, touted to be the strongest man in the world presently. He hefts the thing up onto one of the long metal tables in the room, it comes crashing down with a crunch. He grins over at his finacee, "Well this ought to be interesting huh? Mission alert said Thule right." He starts to strip off his fatigues, not worried about who is in there with him. They've seen each other naked plenty of times. Soon he's slipping into a operations body glove. A tight fitting thing, that leaves nothing to the imagination really. It's tight and molds right to the Mohican's form. Forms a hell of a a pleasant bulge in front too.

He watched Natalie dressed as he prepped up as well. Over the body glove came thermal gear. He grinned, "I have a heating system good to go, though cuddling won't be complained about." He laughs softly giving Nat a wink. As she gave a run down of what they knew, he nods to it all. He slips on the gloves that help him move the gauntlets of his armor. he hums, "Thule...what the hell is at Thule though? I've been there, back in my Ops days. It's cold, icey and lonely. Temperture doesn't usually get above 10 degrees C, Barely 46 degress F. Nuclear and Radar systems aside, there's not alot up there. It's barely strategic in it's uses either."

Victor got to his feet after making sure his under layers are on. Then walks over, lifts himself up, and slides into the refitted and freshly tuned leg portion of his armor. As soon as his legs and pelvis are inside there's a hiss. And he lets out a little displeased grimace, as the systems within sync up to the underglove he's using then with a pop the bolts holding the leg portion snap clear, and with a crunch he hits the floor a foot below. He stands there for a time, humming softly then casually, takes a step forward, as easy as he was walking a moment before, "Ahhh good, mechanical muscular systems sync up near perfect. No noticable lag at all. The first step to full powered armor." He grins, then saunters, yes Saunters over to the upper body portion of the armor that's hanging on another set of hooks. He slips into those like he's slipping into a coat, the waist seals melding together, but he doesn't close it up quite yet. He instead turns as the hooks and bolts holding it up release. He was a seven foot tall god of a man a moment ago, rippling muscle under that body glove but now, nearly 8 and a half feet. He grins, "One small step towards a walking tank." He grins at his lover, "it  has been far too long since we've taken a walk in these my love" He grins, almost maliciously.

he starts to seal up the front of his armor, "And people wonder why we're top kick here on base." All that remains is sealing up the sides and front of his helmet, he heads for his weapons first, looking at the choices, choosing his go too mini-rocket pods, axes, gun-stock club, shotguns and because he was just working on it, hauling the Denel up. He nods, "Shall we go and cleanse another part of the world?"

[u]Grimsby Afghanistan[/u]

Nolan had eyes only for the target down range. And Carl who was sweating a little did too. Neithe rof them noticed the private running up to them from somewhere else on base with a sheaf of paper with information on it.

Nolan took a deep breath, several actually in....out....in........out...

Carl found himself mimicking the pattern. And then Nolan let out one last breath, sighted in, cracked his mouth open just a little then...

[b]BOOM![/b]

The Tac-50 roared. And the big bullet hissed off, Nolan remained where he lay, and only began to breathe again after the dust cleared from the shot but his eye remained on the scope. Carl watched through the spotting scope, "I lost it...I can't see the path." he whispered. And Nolan smiled, "Just watched the target." And as he says that, in the distance there's a nearly inaudible pop as the bullet connects. Center mass hold, heart shot in fact, would have been a kill no matter which way you showed it. The shot is perfectly on target. Carl's jaw drops, Nolan reaches up and works the bolt of his rifle, catching the spent brass as it slides free, and despositing amongst the other spent casing in a box beside him.

Carl grumbles and turns away throwing his hands in the air, "Mother f..." He walks off, grumbling to himself, raving about how he got played. Nolan rolling over and grinning, "You guys were right not to get in on this." He calls to Ross and Andrew, "He still owes me a case." he then spots the private, "Eh? Company, come on in Private." he rolls onto his back and grins, "music...sweet music." He grins as Carl still rants and raves about losing the bet.