Imran looked to the team, still carrying on with his work as he listened to them, before turning his head. He wanted to shake his head sometimes at what Yumiko was like, but he learned to just deal with it. She had her quirks, and she was very, very good at what she did. So in some ways, while Imran felt like the voice of reason, he knew to himself that while his team wasn't any reasonable sense to be made out of, that they did what they did better than anyone else on the planet. 
"Probably, Howard. I mean, you did what you could- and we've gone over everything that happened. Bastard's alive, we're alive, and somehow, I didn't get scorched carrying his sorry bloody self out." Imran said, his accent particular on the bloody. He had accustomed himself to Officerial, and Oxford life too much perhaps- it was a stark contrast from Lahore. But none the less, he did have his quirks oat other times.
"We won't need to look for her. I mean, we're talking a Russian and a Swiss pair of girls on a glacier somewhere over there...they're used to the cold, it's only good fortune that I went up K2 and found out what cold really means a few years ago." Imran said, chuckling as he watched Bjorn get up, the whole height of him. The rooms were all specially nine foot tall- but in some way, it gave a depth to the place, and it meant that the giants that were Svetlana and Bjorn didn't walk into concrete pillars that occasionally jutted a tiny bit out from the roof at times, then looking at Yumiko then come to perhaps an estranged look that what was in the microwave wasn't exactly hers. But being seven foot five over a five foot little Japanese operator meant that even anyone else in the room didn't need Imran's inteligence to say that even as benevolent and calmed that Bjorn could be out of his Viking berserker decapitating wolves with his axe mode, it didn't make sense for her. Understanding Yumiko wasn't worth it in his own eyes- and it was what made it better to just deal with it.
"Oh damn...you seem to have a way with people Yumiko..." Imran said, chuckling a little as he carried on working, either pen to paper or fingers to the keyboard of his laptop. 

---------

Svetlana watched on, aware that Antoine was far better at this than her. Though Svetlana's wasn't as incredible with lift and pure speed, it had a large wingspan, between her hands and legs. It was simply huge, and it fluttered in the breeze, the black of the wingsuit contrasted with a smidge of blue on the leg wing. She bent over, perhaps a little too close to Antoine, the parapac material inflating the wings as some wind blew in, and Svetlana set off a smoke grenade on her left leg. She always wondered if she would be able to fly truly like Antoine one day, but for now, she could at least get her way down, and she'd keep as close as possible for the moment.
"It is a beautiful glacier, why not. See you down the bottom." Svetlana said, watching Antoine go first, as she let rip from her rear, the odourless gas spewing out as she lept off, wind picking up as it blew her hair, her hat off for obvious reasons. It would just get blown off, and besides, the adrenaline warmed her large body like a radiator. Even from afar, you could tell something big was gilding down the glacier ridge, as Svetlana dived, coming close to the side. The thin crack in the glacier was scary, but perfect for this sort of thing, as Svetlana eyed up Antoine. She flipped over, flying belly-up, as she watched the blue smoke trail pour from her leg, leaving a long trail in the glacier, smirking as she turned and almost instantly swerved past an outcrop, flying over and watching Antoine glide on ahead. It went on for minutes- the wingsuits they wore had some incredible lift, and with the thermals on parts of the glacial ridge, it meant that they were even able to gain a few meters and clear ridges that would have otherwise been impossible to take. Looking at the airbase, Svetlana watched on as Antoine went into her manuever, coming in sharp and flaring, as she unzipped. Svetlana knew it was her time- being about 400m off the deck now. She pulled upwards hard, pulled the toggle on her chest hard, hearing the worst nightmare that any jumper could afford. She pulled it again. Nothing. It was stuck. Svetlana realized her little existance could come to an end, but even she had better ideas than this. While Antoine was skilled enough to perhaps come in at exactly the right speed and generate a ton of lift that slowed her down both horizontally and verticlaly, letting her drop down, Svetlana knew that while she could probably survive, it would hurt. Well, this was it. Now or never, she said to herself. She released the parachute from her suit, as she proceeded to dive down again, aware that there was only really one way she was going to survive this. There wasn't any chance of copying Antoine- she had to do it differently if she was going to be still that unbreakable woman. Diving down, she was almost about to pancake into the runway as she pulled up,, barely above the ground and flying past a set of tetrapods and a sea wall, before now coming within a meter of the raging sea.
"Shit..." Svetlana said to herself, as he pulled up for the last time, already killing her speed, as she hit the water.

Svetlana unstrapped her wingsuit, already taking in air. Her lungs were full of air, and she knew what to do. Her body's temprature plumetted, but she didn't give a fuck. She swam up, the waves eventually kicking her ashore, as she took the soaked wingsuit over her shoulder. And worst of all, she only had a thermal bra and some panties on underneath, that was all she had before the climb and all. And the former weren't exactly good at their job. As she clambered over the coastal defenses, she knew that while Antoine was casually collecting her stuff, she was wet. But intact, and perhaps a little bare.

She ran across the runway, cursing to herself about whoever had packed her chute. She knew Antoine had already gone in, but as Svetlana entered, having to go through the side of the common room following Antoine, you could tell that any man's jaw would have dropped at the sight, of her two breasts just about held back by a large thermal bra, and her underwear, which was the same material. And still showed almost all of her rear. It wasn't worth even saying a word, as Imran knew that Svetlana knew that every single eye was pinned to her. She said nothing herself, as she walked to the changing room, accidentally sneaking a look of Antoine as she walked past one of the rooms, lust taking over as she saw Antoine's face look away, but her bare front in view for a millisecond. Something which sent shivers through Svetlana, and a surge of excitement filled her body, as she herself walked on, into her own, a smile on her face as she tucked her hair back and shutting the door, dropped both her bra and her underwear, words not explaining the hidden observer's view, as she got a new pair of underwear on, followed by a dry bra on her wet, salty water soaked skin. A vest and wool jumper followed, as well as a pair of jeans, clearly oversized for anyone normal but right for her size, as she ditched her wingsuit, shivering a little as she walked back to the common room.

Imran looked at the others, a certain look in his face. Bjorn of all people looked the most aroused, somehow just...well, static in how he was in thought at what he had just seen. Antoine came in first, perhaps blushing a little from what Imran could make out. Whatever it was in his team, Imran didn't entirely understanding, but he had a rough idea of what had to be said.
"Good...lots of work, and then suddenly, Svetlana walks past like that. Classic." Imran said, as in that moment, Svetlana literally walked in.
"It is fucking cold in that ocean today, I tell you...God, I'm going to find the jumpmaster and literally hang him by his own parachute cord when I find him. Either that or sit on his face and see what he feels like to be pancaked at 50mph when I went into the water. You need to teach me one day Antoine how to do that, that is amazing." Antoine said, as she shivered a little, looking specifically at Imran with a certain face as she then chuckled, walking over to the sofa as she landed on the sofa by Antoine and Bjorn, leaning back and in particular, words against weren't needed as she leant back a little. With Svetlana, Svets or Lana, you just realized that she stopped caring that she was just looked at, a lot. She embraced it even, didn't mind that she had such curves and beauty. It was just when men tried to manipulate that to their advantage, that she got angry- and it was perfectly fine to Svetlana at least if men had their hearts racing in her presence.