Wolfe and Hirsch followed Icarus in tow. He hasn't said anything, but communicated fairly well, that, or the two marines are just accustomed to using hand and arm signals, especially when they had to leave the wire at night and had to remain silent. Well as silent as one could in a country filled with trash and dogs that bark at the slightest movement. Wolfe took pride in the fact that his fire team was usually nominated for any sort of quasi-covert ops while on deployment.
Wolfe spends most of his free time reading war manuals written by U.S. army or Marine personnel, as well as books dealing with ancient battles and civilizations- his knowledge of the enemy, force on force, and tactical appraisal is bar none.
"War hasn't really changed in the last five thousand years," Wolfe would remark, "just the methodology has changed. Sure weapons and tactics have evolved, but the logistical issues when moving a large force remains the same. Any and all issues dealing with morale, leadership traits, the fog of war, and the enemy and their patterns.... Hasn't changed since man first fought man in scale."
But now however, Wolfe wasn't so sure. Sure history has had its fair share of covert missions, spies, and proxy wars... But... To keep this kind of secret war so well hidden from the locals, let alone everyone on the planet, blew Wolfes mind, and shattered what he thought he knew about the history of war. Given the weaponry he had seen in the armory, maybe he didn't know as much as he gave himself credit for. With the existence of magic Wolfe will have to re-evaluate the essence of warfare. Adapt and overcome, he thought to himself.
Icarus began handing the marines weapons and gear. He placed a pair of black gauntlets on, and began placing pistols into holsters, knives into his boots, slung a couple of rifles. The first appeared to be a standard FAMAS French made automatic rifle in a bullpup design (magazine inserted behind trigger assembly) and an older style bolt action rifle, possibly a Remington .308. Icarus grabbed a large rather imposing knife, he tossed it in the air and grabbed it by the blade, and he handed it over to Hirsch via hilt first.
With a big stupid grin he gladly accepted the knife, then the sheath, and attached it to his belt. Hirsch was then handed an antique Colt .45 with runed markings on the grip. Hirsch was elated. He gleefully accepted the pistol.
"Ohmygodshessopretty!!" he remarked fast, pulling back on the slide three times, each time letting the slide snap forward, then squeezing the trigger, a functions test.
"Her name shall be Sheri," he said softly, lovingly, and then gingerly holstered his new favorite pistol.
Hirsch was then handed a set of bracers, and what he had at first thought was a medieval breast plate. Further inspection showed that to not be the case. The armor, felt like steel, but weighed even less than his flak jacket. There were interlocking plates that allowed for free range of motion. As if someone made a special polymer armor, designed for the body coverage of a knight, but the operational integrity of a modern warfighter.
"Bro...First this gun, now this bad ass armor? Dude...you’re like...the scary Russian version of Santa!" he exclaimed. Only to be punched in the arm by Wolfe, the punch hurt Wolfe, he had used his bandaged hand to punch Hirsch.
"He ain't Russian you stooge! At least I don't think he is..."Icarus walked to Wolfe and placed a Wolf shaped badge on his shoulder. Wolfe could swear he saw a smile in the man's eyes.
"Awesome, thanks," he chuckled. Wolfe genuinely liked the badge, "this is so going on my armor" he said before he was handed his own set of bracers and armor, same as Hirsch's. What got Wolfe however, was what he was handed next.
It was a rifle, quiet large, at first Wolfe thought it to be the standard issue M40A1 that is usually issued to Marine Corps snipers. Upon further inspection it couldn’t be further from the truth, in all actuality the weapon seemed, old, very old. Steampunk came to mind. He shouldered the rifle and aimed down the scope, fairly standard, but the cross hairs were odd, something he wasn’t used to. The weapon had a good weight to it, and even though it looked a bit awkward, the balance was perfect. Confused though, Wolfe could not tell where any ammunition was to go, or any bolt to prime a round… damn magic weapons he thought, but he was grateful for the opportunity.
Icarus then motioned for them to follow him, to a shooting a range. Both marines were excited to test out new weaponry, especially one as interesting as this rifle. That is until Dzel came up to them-
"Oh, there you are…” She was much shorter than all three of them, and looked over the trio with curiosity before looking up at their faces questioningly. “What are you guys up to?”
Icarus pointed ahead, made the classic ‘gun hand’ shape and mimed shooting it off a few times. Then pointed the gun-hand at Dzel, pausing, then opening the hand toward her, and gestured in the direction they were going. An invitation.
“You mean the gun range? No, thank you. I was looking for Wolfe actually. Tristan wants to see him.”
Icarus shrugged, dropping his hands and beckoning for Hirsch to keep following him. He clapped Wolfe on the shoulder and continued down the hallway. Icarus looked back over his shoulder at the two with his black eyes. He smiled. Then kept walking on.
Dzel turned to Wolfe “I’ll walk you to his office. Sorry, I bet you were looking forward to that. They can give you access to the shooting range later, I’m sure.”
“Not a problem, I’m adaptable,” he replied. He motioned her forward, “Lead on ma’am.”
They walked in silence for the most part until they reached the office in question. The secretary waved them in. A man sat at the desk. He seemed battle hardy, as if he spent some time in the suck. At the same time, looks like office life has gotten to him, a nice tan, hands seemed like they haven’t seen any hard labor in a while. But his awkwardness proved to Wolfe he was meant for the field not the office.
He noticed Natasha as well, the attractive red head sat, with her arms folded, she seemed pissed. Wolfe gave her a small private smile and a polite nod, he didn’t mean to, but unintentionally looked at the cleavage that was apparent. Last time Wolfe had seen Natasha she was in full gear and winter garb, what with being on top of a mountain in snowy Russia, now she sat in tighter fit more practical clothing for indoors. She had a nice figure. Wolfe had to shake the image, it had been awhile since he had been engaged in antics with the opposite sex. Wolfe spent most of his time trying to stay productive… Hirsch was the man whore.
“Corporal Wolfe reporting as a requested,” He said to Tristan. Wolfe assumed a modified position of parade rest. Granted this guy wasn’t a military officer, but Wolfe is a creature of protocol, and in any other normal situation this is almost exactly how he would act if his superiors called him to their office, of course he would have been at the position of attention, but he figured the standards were a bit more lax in his current environment.
Wolfe spends most of his free time reading war manuals written by U.S. army or Marine personnel, as well as books dealing with ancient battles and civilizations- his knowledge of the enemy, force on force, and tactical appraisal is bar none.
"War hasn't really changed in the last five thousand years," Wolfe would remark, "just the methodology has changed. Sure weapons and tactics have evolved, but the logistical issues when moving a large force remains the same. Any and all issues dealing with morale, leadership traits, the fog of war, and the enemy and their patterns.... Hasn't changed since man first fought man in scale."
But now however, Wolfe wasn't so sure. Sure history has had its fair share of covert missions, spies, and proxy wars... But... To keep this kind of secret war so well hidden from the locals, let alone everyone on the planet, blew Wolfes mind, and shattered what he thought he knew about the history of war. Given the weaponry he had seen in the armory, maybe he didn't know as much as he gave himself credit for. With the existence of magic Wolfe will have to re-evaluate the essence of warfare. Adapt and overcome, he thought to himself.
Icarus began handing the marines weapons and gear. He placed a pair of black gauntlets on, and began placing pistols into holsters, knives into his boots, slung a couple of rifles. The first appeared to be a standard FAMAS French made automatic rifle in a bullpup design (magazine inserted behind trigger assembly) and an older style bolt action rifle, possibly a Remington .308. Icarus grabbed a large rather imposing knife, he tossed it in the air and grabbed it by the blade, and he handed it over to Hirsch via hilt first.
With a big stupid grin he gladly accepted the knife, then the sheath, and attached it to his belt. Hirsch was then handed an antique Colt .45 with runed markings on the grip. Hirsch was elated. He gleefully accepted the pistol.
"Ohmygodshessopretty!!" he remarked fast, pulling back on the slide three times, each time letting the slide snap forward, then squeezing the trigger, a functions test.
"Her name shall be Sheri," he said softly, lovingly, and then gingerly holstered his new favorite pistol.
Hirsch was then handed a set of bracers, and what he had at first thought was a medieval breast plate. Further inspection showed that to not be the case. The armor, felt like steel, but weighed even less than his flak jacket. There were interlocking plates that allowed for free range of motion. As if someone made a special polymer armor, designed for the body coverage of a knight, but the operational integrity of a modern warfighter.
"Bro...First this gun, now this bad ass armor? Dude...you’re like...the scary Russian version of Santa!" he exclaimed. Only to be punched in the arm by Wolfe, the punch hurt Wolfe, he had used his bandaged hand to punch Hirsch.
"He ain't Russian you stooge! At least I don't think he is..."Icarus walked to Wolfe and placed a Wolf shaped badge on his shoulder. Wolfe could swear he saw a smile in the man's eyes.
"Awesome, thanks," he chuckled. Wolfe genuinely liked the badge, "this is so going on my armor" he said before he was handed his own set of bracers and armor, same as Hirsch's. What got Wolfe however, was what he was handed next.
It was a rifle, quiet large, at first Wolfe thought it to be the standard issue M40A1 that is usually issued to Marine Corps snipers. Upon further inspection it couldn’t be further from the truth, in all actuality the weapon seemed, old, very old. Steampunk came to mind. He shouldered the rifle and aimed down the scope, fairly standard, but the cross hairs were odd, something he wasn’t used to. The weapon had a good weight to it, and even though it looked a bit awkward, the balance was perfect. Confused though, Wolfe could not tell where any ammunition was to go, or any bolt to prime a round… damn magic weapons he thought, but he was grateful for the opportunity.
Icarus then motioned for them to follow him, to a shooting a range. Both marines were excited to test out new weaponry, especially one as interesting as this rifle. That is until Dzel came up to them-
"Oh, there you are…” She was much shorter than all three of them, and looked over the trio with curiosity before looking up at their faces questioningly. “What are you guys up to?”
Icarus pointed ahead, made the classic ‘gun hand’ shape and mimed shooting it off a few times. Then pointed the gun-hand at Dzel, pausing, then opening the hand toward her, and gestured in the direction they were going. An invitation.
“You mean the gun range? No, thank you. I was looking for Wolfe actually. Tristan wants to see him.”
Icarus shrugged, dropping his hands and beckoning for Hirsch to keep following him. He clapped Wolfe on the shoulder and continued down the hallway. Icarus looked back over his shoulder at the two with his black eyes. He smiled. Then kept walking on.
Dzel turned to Wolfe “I’ll walk you to his office. Sorry, I bet you were looking forward to that. They can give you access to the shooting range later, I’m sure.”
“Not a problem, I’m adaptable,” he replied. He motioned her forward, “Lead on ma’am.”
They walked in silence for the most part until they reached the office in question. The secretary waved them in. A man sat at the desk. He seemed battle hardy, as if he spent some time in the suck. At the same time, looks like office life has gotten to him, a nice tan, hands seemed like they haven’t seen any hard labor in a while. But his awkwardness proved to Wolfe he was meant for the field not the office.
He noticed Natasha as well, the attractive red head sat, with her arms folded, she seemed pissed. Wolfe gave her a small private smile and a polite nod, he didn’t mean to, but unintentionally looked at the cleavage that was apparent. Last time Wolfe had seen Natasha she was in full gear and winter garb, what with being on top of a mountain in snowy Russia, now she sat in tighter fit more practical clothing for indoors. She had a nice figure. Wolfe had to shake the image, it had been awhile since he had been engaged in antics with the opposite sex. Wolfe spent most of his time trying to stay productive… Hirsch was the man whore.
“Corporal Wolfe reporting as a requested,” He said to Tristan. Wolfe assumed a modified position of parade rest. Granted this guy wasn’t a military officer, but Wolfe is a creature of protocol, and in any other normal situation this is almost exactly how he would act if his superiors called him to their office, of course he would have been at the position of attention, but he figured the standards were a bit more lax in his current environment.