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Cynthia preened as she stepped out of the armored truck that delivered her to Firebase  Ember. She’d been travelling for the better part of two days straight, and she was beginning to come apart at the seams. She took time to look herself over with a small pocket mirror, following a small grooming checklist before continuing with her day. Hair combed? Check. Make up? Needs a touch up. Baggy eyes? Prevalent.  With a groan she touched up her lipstick, at the very least she could make herself a little presentable for the sergeant she’s set to meet. In one continuous move she’d roll up the sleeves of her white blouse and don, big spectacle glasses to cover the bags under her eyes. She wasn’t exactly wearing her Sunday best, but she figured for now. Her white blouse and blue jeans would do. 
	
After checking herself over she’d make a b-line for the first soldier she could see. The man tried to look anywhere else, likely trying to avoid an interaction with the woman. [color=F08080]“Excuse me. Excuse me!”[/color] Cynthia called to the marine as she jogged over to him, the camera worn around her neck bouncing up and down as she approached the man. The marine turned to face Cynthia, a scowl seemingly a permanent fixture on his face as he addressed her. 

[color=3E9B2A]“Yes ma’am? How can I help you?”[/color] The exasperated marine half grunted at Cynthia, not bothering with a smile for pleasantries. 

[color=F08080]“Hi, yeah.. I’m the journalist from the Times. I’m told I need to meet with a..-”[/color] Cynthia paused to look at her notepad, the name of the sergeant Jeremy, her editor, told her to meet escaped her.

[color=F08080]“Sergeant Whittaker! That’s right.. Can you be a dear and point me in his direction soldier?”[/color] Cynthia asked as sweetly as she could manage despite the rudeness, a bright smile on her face. 

The man didn’t respond verbally, he’d just grunt and point toward a large looking tent further into the base. Cynthia smiled at the man and nodded before striding for the tent at a brisk pace. The quicker introductions were through, the quicker she could rest and then get to work. Jeremy expected the first of her interviews on his desk on friday, and she just so happened to have arrived on base an hour and a half later than she had anticipated. She had no time to lose. 

She strode into the tent confidently, the sergeant surely wouldn’t be doing anything untoward here, it wasn’t their barracks after all. She’d smile brightly at the man inside, striding in and towards him with a hand extended for shaking. 

[color=F08080]“Hello! You must be Sergeant Whittaker, truly it's a pleasure. I’m Cynthia Ward with the New York Times. I was told you were expecting me. Sorry for the wait.”[/color]
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