"I only imagine I might..." Skye added, chuckling as she gave the fox one last fluff, before going back to the table, watching as it swung it's tail playfully into Zurvan's gob, a sight that couldn't stop Skye from chuckling. As mature as she was, it was hte little things to her, she just felt it was human and in an environment like this, it came with the territory to enjoy what you did more than overthinking it.
Sam gave the middle finger back to Astrid, a bit drier yet happy to let that go- knowing full well the boss was watching with both eyes squarely at him and Astrid...
"Yeah, yeah, try growing up and living in Rotterdam, Gungnir..." He said, quietening his tone as he took the blunt and lit it, gently inhaling as he leaned back in the chair, taking a bit on board before he replied.
"And uhh, let's just leave it at the fact that you were the one that took him to hell in a fucking cell by suckering him into the septic tank! Ever heard of murdering people more quietly?" Sam replied, taking another strong hit as he sucked it in, chilling back, aware he wasn't gonna come back again.
Just let it go, because fuck it, he knew he'd done his job just like Astrid had- the Dutchman giggling a little to Astrid, shrugging about it all to show he was letting back. Perhaps not perfectly, but then again, Skye had a point- there WERE a lot more than they expected to be interfering with there, and well, most other SOF teams just couldn't done what they had done. Extracting a high value target with a shitload of guards, with a speed and precision that most just didn't have.
Skye only sighed in response to the two, giving an ice cold stare to both Sam and Astrid, almost of disapointment, but more to just kill off whatever they were they were chittering away about, the fox almost seeming to Skye like the more responsible of the three kits here right now. Like the mum she was, she had enough of their shit- and the look in her eyes, sharp as it was like a shard of glass, seemed to very much illustrate her thoughts. She finished the glass, gently washing it out under the sink, taking her gaze off to just give them a moment to reengage. Zurvan's funny admission made her chuckle a little- he was always the underrated team member, more subtle but a goldmine nonetheless. Easier than the other two that was for sure, but still, his own breed beyond all the animals he had brought in. Their reference to the meme even got a chuckle out of Skye, a crack she didn't at all mind showing especially with how much a liking the fox had to the Scottish woman- something that came before refocussing on all their questions.
"Quiet, you two. The holiday's not entirely all inclusive, I'll put it that way. Fairly fucking heavy, actually. And well, we don't know who exactly Black Flag are sending. What we do know though..." Astrid said, sitting up on one of the stools in the kitchen area, perching up to look to the three before she continued.
"Is that they have a Yasen-class nuclear submarine in their possession allegedly heading to a meeting at an old Nazi U-Boat facility on the island. I'm not making that shit up. Yes, I know, a fucking nuclear, Russian fourth-generation piece of advanced naval technology in their possession. Codenamed the "Lost Ash", it's something that our handler kept an eye on- I mean, it ain't a fucking set of car keys, now is it? And here we were thinking those fucking Russians were good at getting their property back themselves..." Skye started, sighing as she knew a little more than the team needed to know right now, but she never held back on telling. After all, these were the people who might die for her- as she would for them, and transparancy went a long way in that.
"The sub basically corresponds to a terror attack about a month ago where Severomorsk got raided in a pretty scary chemcial attack our friends in Russia covered up to pretty much every intelligence community out there- they call it "damage control" to stop anyone thinking their potential has been affected. Bad move, because they forgot to mention that a certain group of mysterious, well backed anrcho-terrorists now have an actual nuclear submarine, with actual fucking cruise missiles aboard it- and only now, the Russians tell us they're direly fucked- their own intelligence agencies are probably comprimised too they think. It's a shitshow." Skye's optimism rarely took a dink like that, but well, she wasn't a Queen for nothing- she told her people exactly what went down, and why.
"Anyway, right now they've got zero proper navigational guidance for any weapons system natively installed and are likely running with a crew of absolute retards who got it out of port....but they sub get that jury-rigged to GLASNOST or GPS, get restocked with enough specialists to figure that thing out beyond just sailing the seven seas, like those cruise missiles and the nuclear fuel on board? Bad fucking day at the office for Athens, Rome or Istanbul." Skye added, shaking her head, tapping the desk.
"So things really are fucked. But same time, it's a good opportunity to sabotage a serious element of Black Flag in one go. Cut a lot of snakeheads off, and maybe gain some intel on who actually orchestrated the...." Almost as if on cue, Skye's phone buzzed, the CO looking and seeing Oracle's tag flash up.
"Shit, sorry, gotta take this. But yeah, till we know more, we'll sit tight until we can do something about it." She replied hastily, taking the call and leaving the room to talk, Sam looking across to the other two. She was good at hiding things, but that was a clear, clear tell that she had a call from their boss's boss. Meaning, their conversation mere minutes ago for rest was now gone to shit.
"I can't belive our fuckin R&R just got cut, again. Every fucking time, dammit!" Sam said, knowing full well that the team had already gone through this shit enough- it was almost textbook, especially when Skye went the way she did. They'd spent enough months as a team to see that already- that plan had very quickly gone to shit, and Sam probably voiced that for everyone, even though he knew full well they'd get on with the work.
"So, we taking bets on how serious this is gonna be? This sounds like Piri-Piri, hot spice...like, that ain't a courtesy call, and she knows it." Sam asked the other two, himself already trying to get more serious, even though he definitely was still a little baked.
A few minutes later, and the scene on the team leader's face had gone from a playful description to a more concise, hardened look. The redhead had empathy for fucking the team's rest over, but then again, that was why they got paid- and also, why they were here, because they were on watch. And when Skye spoke, you listened- because it wasn't without reason that someone in the world had dialled the last emergency service.
"So, you know that thing I was just saying? Everyone, you've got thirty to sort your affairs- we'll catch up on holiday when the world doesn't want to go to shit....again. Grab your gear- Astrid, Sam, I need you to take rebreathers and quite a fair amount of explosives, diving kit and close quarters weaponry- you're gonna be possibly sorting the sub out. Zurvan, you're with me- standard assault setup for you for us to pin the facility in. We'll meet down by the vehicle pool, I'll get us briefed en route to theatre moment we know what's in play- it appears we have a window of opportunity with the LOst Ash. So let's fucking go, yeah?! Skye barked, the former Major not mincing a single word of what she had to say.
Sam kept his tongue locked down as he stood up, dropping the blunt and doing his best to get back to reality, one that would come right back down on the ride into theatre. The dark-haired Dutchman walked past, and headed for the armoury, very much aware that him and Astrid no doubt had a pretty fucking thrilling job on this op- but no less one to take seriously, and get done as professionally and cleanly as they could. The team may have been dysfunctional, but when it came to doing the job efficiently and effectively, there were no second-bests.