[b]Bagram[/b] Nolan came out behind Andrew. One fist wrapped in Konstantin's shirt front. Nolan had not let the gun runner have one moment where he felt safe. Always nearby, a weapon out and pointed at him, an angry glare on his face, Konstantin had learned the dangers of trying to beg during the trip in wen Nolan had kicked or backhanded more then a few times. Nolan handed the man over to the two soldiers, "Make sure he remembers where he's at now gentlemen." He then turned to jog over to catch up with Merlin and Andrew, "That man could use a bullet to the dome." He finally turned and looked at Merlin. And couldn't stop himself, "I thought you'd be taller." He grinned a little as they walked listening to the run down. He nodded slowly hearing and assimilating the list of units and groups in on this, "Afghanistan is in the record books for largest American retaliation. Wakhan is going to be in the record books for heaviest retaliation since the War on Terror started. He almost slammed into Andrew's back when they stopped. And he peeked out from behind Merlin and Andrew, spotting Ross, Carl and Jenny. He blinked then blurted out, "Holy shit you guys are still alive?" Carl looked over from where he had huddled on the ground looking his kit over, "No faith! Absolutely none." Nolan smiled, stepping around Andrew and Merlin, shaking hands with Carl and Ross, and bowing to Jenny, shaking her hand too right after. He returned to a place beside Andrew, and listened to the briefing. Carl got up, shoulder his M249. He placed a hand on one of the ammo containers on his belt while he listened. He could almost not believe the sheer scale of this. It was almost maddening how these guys could just walk out and cause this kind of damage. But his jaw dropped when the news of Goliath came out. Nolan nodded, "I remember him, he took a HEIAP round to the helmet, and then two more to the back before he dropped." He looked to the three heavily armor juggernauts, "No offense, but that guy was bettered armor then you three are. In a one on one I'd have put my money on him." Carl grinned a little, "I can see why." Nolan smiles abit. Carl hrmed, his eyes narrowing, "PMC contractors who are better armored then us." He turned to look at Jenny, "You don't think...?" He bumped Ross, "Do you think that...you know...them?" He piped down as the plans were laid out. Nolan gave a small hoot of pleasure, "Wooo haven't been out quadding since I left Wainwright. This will be business and pleasure." He chuckled and nodded in triumph, he might be feeling the stress of the last few days finally. He deflated abit, "Well atleast we get to sleep. Even if we have to fly again." Carl laughed, "Oh you poor thing." Nolan flipped Carl off playfully, then slapped Andrew on the shoulder, "I'm going to go requisition our gear from the QM. I'll meet you at the Bird." He walked off and waved to the others as he went. Carl smiled waving back to him. Then grinned at Andrew, "Nicely done mang. So what shall we do while we're waiting." ---- Victor crouched against one wall of the container, he'd been half awake for most of the tip, except for the times when he was chatting with Natalie. He had been doing something he doesn't usually do, reflecting, meditating and praying for the coming action. Calling out to beings alot of people thought him foolish for believing in. He still believed in the old ways kind of, the warpaint was part of it, having made his own tomahawks and club were part of it to. He opened his eyes and smiled at Natalie, "I am honestly curious about why that happens, not worried, but curious." He smiled and stood up, "And of course I have the paints, I need to apply mine. Our own little ritual. Like the one I performed at the base." [i]Before leaving Perth[/i] A troop of Aborigines and a small group of Mohawk had somehow infiltrated into the base. A 10 foot tall, carved wooden post had been erected on a plot of ground on the base. And despite the protests of some of the Brass, Victor, the Mohawk tribesmen and Aborigines had held an impromptu pow-wow around the post. There had been dancing, drumming singing, several digiridoo sessions. Each group ha traded the ground around the post for hours, until finally, Victor had strode onto the ground, taking a pair of ornate tomahawks in hand, one given to him by the eldest Australian Aborigine there, the other by a wizened old Mohawk woman. He had then slammed the two axe blades deep into the red painted post. Then like they had appeared, the Mohawk delegation and Aborigines had all seemed to vanish, leaving only Victor standing before the Warpost. And he had vanished soon after, to board the plane. [b]Back in the present[/b] Victor took off his helmet, opened the paint containers and began to color his face, a vibrant yellow, with red, white and black as well, a skeletal look, very unsettling to look at. He offered the paints up to Natalie. Soon though the container opened, and he greeted the jump master, paint and all, "I remember Chechnya, the man screamed all the way down. I don't think they bothered to scrap him up off the ground after that." Two human mountains walked by the little man. Victor fitting his helmet on. Sliding the face plate into place, and keying on the HUD. He blinked a few times then gave a thumbs up to Natalie, nodding to show he's ready.