SkyeOfStarsWithout a second thought Christina patted her chest to find her breather mask, satisfied once she found it hanging by its clip on her side. The New York subways were cold places, and even though she'd lived here most of her life, even she shivered a little underneath the thick coat and combat rigging she wore.
Their mission was simple: gain access into New York City via the tunnels, and once done, assess the situation of the city. Theirs was a covert insertion; the military by itself was already up to their necks in the shitstorm that had followed the outbreaks of the infection throughout the Big Apple. That was why the Division had been formed. They only took who they needed to undergo these extremely high-danger missions, where others wouldn't for fear of death or infection, which was also death. She knew how close and personal the virus could get, that was the reason she wore the rigging, the suit and the watch and computer. Hopefully, somehow, she'd make sure her friends wouldn't have gone in vain. The mission they were on was paramount to the success of the New York Quarantine in general: once they had assessed the situation of the pandemic within the city, they were to go on and help the local law enforcement and military that were still trapped within the quarantine zone to maintain some semblance of order, while investigating the outbreak in general; perhaps to find the source, or a cure. Whatever the case, they operated alone. This ragtag team of soldiers was her new crew now, and she had to fit in as best as she could.
New York City was under quarantine, had been for the past five days now. What relative order within was quickly being lost when the general public had realised the military was putting up fences and walls and mounted gun posts and not allowing anyone to leave. The riots right after that horrific realisation had been intense; several had died, some soldiers, most civilians, caught in the bloody struggle between freedom and safety; civs wanted out to get away from the horrible stuff within the city, military wanted to keep the public in for fear of spreading the infection outward. Today there had been no clashes. Yet. Christina didn't keep her hopes up on the good New Yorkers to keep the peace.
She sighed under her scarf. Five long, bloody days and only today were they finally deployed to actually do something. Christina had spent the past few days sitting on her ass in the rudimentary FOB outside of NYC, fiddling with her new gear but doing almost nothing of worth. No orders had been given from the mysterious men at the top of the Division, but she knew that once those orders came down she'd be put right in the thick of it. And here she was, in the thick of it. Catching sight of Javier checking his map, she did the same. The holographic display blossomed in a sheen of orange and white from her wristwatch, displaying the same things he saw; the platform several hundred feet ahead of them, the escalators and stairs up, and a little of the streets and buildings around the subway entrance. That's where they were headed then. She shut down the map and gave her sector a scan with her eyes. Being the rear scout, she was in the prime area to help any of her comrades should they get injured, and at the same time she had several soldiers worth of muscle and bullets between her and whatever dangers lay ahead. The grim thought wasn't much, but it was her position as the medic after all. During a firefight, anyone that went down was her priority, but during a patrol or travel like this, the back of the group was her focus.
Christina swept her vision round to behind them. The flare Javier had laid moments earlier was still burning strong, illuminating the train car and the makeshift camp next to it in a halo of red. No one there. Someone must've used this as home until they'd escaped...or died. She couldn't tell which. Her scarf made smelling the area mighty difficult, but she didn't keep her mind on it. No telling what laid in the darkness.
Nothing else to do but follow orders and proceed with the mission, she thought to herself. She kept at the team's rear, rifle loaded and ready to deal with anything that came their way.
Their mission was simple: gain access into New York City via the tunnels, and once done, assess the situation of the city. Theirs was a covert insertion; the military by itself was already up to their necks in the shitstorm that had followed the outbreaks of the infection throughout the Big Apple. That was why the Division had been formed. They only took who they needed to undergo these extremely high-danger missions, where others wouldn't for fear of death or infection, which was also death. She knew how close and personal the virus could get, that was the reason she wore the rigging, the suit and the watch and computer. Hopefully, somehow, she'd make sure her friends wouldn't have gone in vain. The mission they were on was paramount to the success of the New York Quarantine in general: once they had assessed the situation of the pandemic within the city, they were to go on and help the local law enforcement and military that were still trapped within the quarantine zone to maintain some semblance of order, while investigating the outbreak in general; perhaps to find the source, or a cure. Whatever the case, they operated alone. This ragtag team of soldiers was her new crew now, and she had to fit in as best as she could.
New York City was under quarantine, had been for the past five days now. What relative order within was quickly being lost when the general public had realised the military was putting up fences and walls and mounted gun posts and not allowing anyone to leave. The riots right after that horrific realisation had been intense; several had died, some soldiers, most civilians, caught in the bloody struggle between freedom and safety; civs wanted out to get away from the horrible stuff within the city, military wanted to keep the public in for fear of spreading the infection outward. Today there had been no clashes. Yet. Christina didn't keep her hopes up on the good New Yorkers to keep the peace.
She sighed under her scarf. Five long, bloody days and only today were they finally deployed to actually do something. Christina had spent the past few days sitting on her ass in the rudimentary FOB outside of NYC, fiddling with her new gear but doing almost nothing of worth. No orders had been given from the mysterious men at the top of the Division, but she knew that once those orders came down she'd be put right in the thick of it. And here she was, in the thick of it. Catching sight of Javier checking his map, she did the same. The holographic display blossomed in a sheen of orange and white from her wristwatch, displaying the same things he saw; the platform several hundred feet ahead of them, the escalators and stairs up, and a little of the streets and buildings around the subway entrance. That's where they were headed then. She shut down the map and gave her sector a scan with her eyes. Being the rear scout, she was in the prime area to help any of her comrades should they get injured, and at the same time she had several soldiers worth of muscle and bullets between her and whatever dangers lay ahead. The grim thought wasn't much, but it was her position as the medic after all. During a firefight, anyone that went down was her priority, but during a patrol or travel like this, the back of the group was her focus.
Christina swept her vision round to behind them. The flare Javier had laid moments earlier was still burning strong, illuminating the train car and the makeshift camp next to it in a halo of red. No one there. Someone must've used this as home until they'd escaped...or died. She couldn't tell which. Her scarf made smelling the area mighty difficult, but she didn't keep her mind on it. No telling what laid in the darkness.
Nothing else to do but follow orders and proceed with the mission, she thought to herself. She kept at the team's rear, rifle loaded and ready to deal with anything that came their way.
