Stavanger Spaceport backed onto fjords to the north, but the approach from the south had been carefully landscaped to maximise usable space and access. A carefully choreographed district of workshops and offices separated large parking areas for passengers and staff. It was in one of those freezing cold parking areas that [url=https://i.pinimg.com/564x/09/20/95/092095aead2f6a617425e0518533afdf.jpg]Tyreese Darnell[/url] found himself crouched behind a Norwegian police car as its spinning lights shone lit up the snow around him.

His group had made it quite close to the Jotunheim’s hangar when a heavy machine gun had started firing at them from one of the concourse windows. Having made sure he wasn’t dying from a stray bullet to the bullet proof vest under his suit jacket, Darnell clutched a satellite phone to one ear once he’d made a connection with his Tamerlane handler. Its aerial wiggled whenever he flinched at the bullets which [i]dunted[/i] into the metalwork around him. 

“Mr Darnell, what is the status of the Jotunheim? Over.”

[i]Dunt, Dunt Dunt Dunt.[/i] Civilians ran from cover to cover - the ones that didn’t were already lying face down on the cold floor.

“I can’t get through to them;  they have some kind of jammer on us!”

“What is the status of the Tamerlane security detachment? We can’t make contact with them.”

“Whoever attacked us took them out first. I barely escaped the blast - they are looking for the Jo!”

A nearby car exploded, flipping over and onto the other side of the police cruiser. Windows shattered, spraying glass all over Darnell’s suit. He threw himself onto the floor and started crawling away.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Tyreese spluttered, blood trickling into his mouth from cuts on his face.

“Focus on my voice, Mr Darnell. Who are you with? Can you get to the Jotunheim?”

“Even though it isn’t even close to my job, I paid some Israelis i just met a MILLION Euro day rate from my fucking CREDIT CARD to get me there. Where is my back up?”

The Israelis in question numbered five in total and were [url=https://i.pinimg.com/564x/85/53/20/8553208027f6fa1529841e149968e50b.jpg]armed to the teeth[/url], like they’d just got back from a mission themselves. They crouched behind various nearby vehicles and attempted to exercise fire control on the invisible assailants. Their leader, Ezra, stuck close to Darnell and calmly co-ordinated the others in Hebrew.

“I don’t care how much it costs, Mr Darnell. I need you to do whatever it takes to make contact with the spaceship sat in hangar 147. We have a platoon enroute from our site in Murmansk but that’s going to take some time. You are Tamerlane’s eyes and ears at this moment.”

“MURMANSK!?” Tyreese yelled as he tried to get up. Ezra pushed him back down and fired most of a magazine into a set of plate glass windows in front of them.

“I need the whole fucking world down here 45 minutes ago!” He shouted over the din.

“Mr Darnell, we’ve got to move.” Ezra grunted, grabbing Tyreese and hefting him off the floor - no easy feat considering the suited consultant clocked in at over 14 stone himself. 

The squad had eliminated the threat and they moved as one organism towards a staircase elevating them into the main concourse, Tyreese clutching his sat phone and briefcase in the middle.