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A few more faces entered the waiting area, more mercs looking for a (semi) legitimate payday. Unless pressed, Monika had little intention of introducing herself; odds were that at least some of the folks here would be dead before tomorrow.

[colour=828216][b]”Monika, support.”[/b][/colour] She replied, accepting one of the RFID tags; shifting her rig about so she could get under all her stuff, she attached the tag to the tank top she wore under her milsurp cammo.  [colour=828216][b]”If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not find myself owning you [i]any[/i] money.”[/b][/colour] She added, giving her gear one last check.

A few moments later Monika found herself on an outbound helo, while the mission brief went on in her ear. [colour=828216][i]Hold the line, smack anyone who tries to get in. Easy enough...in theory.[/i][/colour] She had an old American made 'Claymore' anti-personnel mine that'd be good to limit access, and depending on local scenery she might be able to make a barrier or two with her shape charges.