Task Force Lima IC

[Phreniphorm]

"Nice shooting there, Ruskie." Zhenya heard someone comment from behind him, but he paid it no heed, instead focusing his eyes through the scope of the VKS and on the paper target down the range. He appreciated the down time they were getting, but part of him was still wondering when the next mission would be. The hot meals, proper showers and beds were certainly welcome, but Zhenya had always felt a certain longing for the field. There, he could at least get some shooting done without someone making a comment about every shot. Clenching his jaw, Zhenya pulled the trigger and watched the bullet tear a huge hole in the paper target's chest. "That's one hell of a bullet. You Ruskies sure know how to make 'em." The same person said. As Zhenya cycled the bolt, he was finding it very hard to resist the urge to turn the rifle on the unwanted commentator. Getting up from his station and removing his ear protection and ballistic goggles, he picked up the rifle and walked out of the shooting range before anyone could say anything.

He supposed he did look weird in the USAF airbase in his Russian vest and rifle. He was possibly the only Russian combat personnel on the base, but that didn't bother Zhenya that much. He would have found a US soldier an odd sight back at his home base in Russia, so Zhenya supposed he wasn't one to talk. Glancing up at the sky, Zhenya noticed that it was late in the evening, and he had yet to have his dinner. Although he wasn't feeling very hungry, he didn't want to wait only to feel pangs of hunger late at night. He left his rifle with the personnel at the armory before heading off to the enlisted mess hall. He took his food quietly and without incident before going off to a quiet corner and taking his seat. After all the unwanted commentary on his shooting skills, the silence was very much welcomed.

[SilverwindBlade]

Scott was glad to be out of the field, at least for a while. It wasn't that he didn't get a sense of satisfaction from doing his duty, and working with the others was interesting. The work they'd done so far had been some of the most fulfilling he'd done. However, it had been taxing, and he was looking forward to having some rest and relaxation.
Bagram wasn't exactly the hilton or the ritz, but it had some places a guy could sit back and chill out for a while. And most of the time, they weren't being shot at, either.
Dressed in casual clothes, he handed over a couple of letters home to his parents and family (the normal 'can't tell you what I'm doing, new unit, good people, doing well, hope you're okay' stuff) to the postmasters' office, and then ambled his way through the housing area, and past the retail and PX units. He hesitated outside the fast food joints, the smells watering his mouth, but - reluctantly - decided against it, and to save it for later on. He walked along further, deciding to make a circuit of the area, simply to enjoy the feeling of not having to be anywhere. He paused at the edge of one of the base areas, watching the movements on the flight line. A pair of A-10's droned along the taxiway, moving to one end of the runway. Watching the planes until they moved out of sight, he turned on one heel, heeding the rumble of his stomach, and headed to the mess hall.

The hall was a welcome comfort too. It was kind of nice to be around a large number of people, all chatting and lively, cheerful and exchanging jokes and stories. The SAS man exchanged nods and gestures with a few people he recognised, before he loaded his tray up with a meal. Spotting Zhenya in one corner, he sat down across from the Russian with a smile.
"Hey, mate" he said with a nod. "How're yeh findin' it being back in the world?"
He took a bit of his hamburger as he sat down, enjoying it, compared to the bland, yet filling MRE food that'd been the staple while in the field.

[Phreniphorm]

"Scott," Zhenya acknowledged with a nod of his head as he took a spoonful of whatever it was on his tray into his mouth. He had learned from experience that looking at what you were eating was often a bad idea. It was much easier to just close your eyes and trust that the cooks knew what they were doing. The food didn't taste half bad, at least not when compared to MREs or the disaster of a cook he had back at his home base. Heavens know how the man managed to keep his job. His food didn't land people in hospital, but it certainly tasted bad enough to make them wish it had. "Boring," Zhenya admitted, in response to Scott's question. "The warm baths and proper meals are welcome, but I'd much rather be back in the field." He said, then looked down at his clothes. He was still wearing what he had been wearing on the mission in Pakistan. "At least once I get my BDUs and AK back. I don't want to be stuck with the VKS and VAL in a shoot out." The two weapons were good, there was no doubt about that, but they were niche weapons. Good for covert ops and urban warfare, but not much use in other situations.

For the first time, Zhenya looked down at his food. It was apparently some kind of noodles in gravy. Nothing too bad, though the presentation could have been better. "I hope we get back to Camp Bastion before deploying. My AK is still there." He said and took another bite out of his meal. He finished chewing and swallowing before continuing, "Any word on when we'll be moving out again?"

[Lady Rawr]

[U]Hyderabad[/U]

Victoria ducked quickly back behind the SUV as the grenade reduced the enemy vehicle to a flaming tangled mess of metal. As the dust slowly started to settle the team was already moving and converging on the car, each realising that it was definitely time to leave.

As they sped away from the sirens and back into the bustling city Victoria couldn't help but still feel slightly on edge, after all the insurgents had found them time and time again almost startling her slightly with their persistence. But as they left the city centre behind them without further incident she felt they could sigh a small breath of relief now that everything was behind them. Khalid was clearly very important to someone, and she had no doubt that one way or another her organisation would extract plenty information from him.

Looking at the others as they all relaxed slightly she had to admit that she'd been impressed by each of them far more than she'd initially expected, something which she was more than happy to be wrong about.

Bagram Airfield

As Victoria had finished sending all of the information she had pulled from Khalid's cell phone she closed the application on her laptop and leant back in the stiff plastic chair stretching out as she did, still feeling slightly stiff and tense from the action before. Running her hand through her hair she took a deep breath before focusing once more on the various files and reports that she was compiling.

Deciding that it would probably be good to take a break Victoria closed the laptop and rubbing one of her eyes she stood and after briefly clearing the desk she moved out of the small room and out onto the base. It was just after lunch time and she figured the officers mess would be a good place as any, though she didn't particularly have much of an appetite and she kept running through everything that she'd have to do next as soon as she'd finish eating. This distracted her so that she didn't notice both Scott and Zhenya sat together until after she'd selected the fairly bland looking meal and had glanced around at the tables. Moving over to the pair she heard Zhenya ask "Any word on when we'll be moving out again?"

"Definitely sometime soon from what I hear" she answered sitting herself next to the pair and smiling slightly at them.

[kingkonrad]

(Okay, I will translate this. I kind of thought this might be a little more insightful to see Jan's past in GROM, and also to spice things up a bit. Note the bold- and since Polish has a few extra letters, I've done what I can, so in areas, it may be a little broken due to the lack of certain letters. However, it's nothing hugely significant- and is mostly legible.)
(I'm not 100% fluent before you ask, so yes, this was a good shot at it.)

Jan finished off his meal, quickly wolfing it down and taking his plate to the cleaning area, where a table stood with a few plates stacked, dirty knives and forks placed inside a small bowl. It was as good as food got here- from tomorrow onwards, he guessed that things would be MREs again. Meals Ready to Eat. More like meals ready to die from. They were horrid to some- no matter how many you had, it left a taste behind in your mouth when it was consumed. The Officers' Mess seemed like a very tasteful place- still with the same paint and drab flooring, it was significantly smaller, and seemed to be less full of hubub. Jan simply left his plate behind on the stack, and put his knife and fork away into the bowl, turning away from it and headed toward the ops centre. He had no idea of what, and how things were going down- but he just hoped for the best. Before he even left, his name rang out, and Jan looked over to a man running over. Jan was almost out of the door, and headed outside, when he saw the man run over. The Polish lingered, and Jan knew who it was very quickly. A smile lit up his face, as he walked out the door, to see him.
"Kapitan Bogdanowicz! Kurwa, juz bylo za dlugi czas. Jak sie bywa?" "Captain Bogdaniwicz? Fuck, it's been too long a time. How's things?" The soldier said, the tan shirt and Polish insignia quickly visible on his shirt sleeve. Jan smiled, amazed to finally hear the first Polish he had in weeks. It had been almost too long- and he couldn't believe that in front of him now, was Sergeant Tomas Wójcik. He was from his former 4-man fireteam, and someone that Jan had learned to live with. A bit of a pain, yet one hell of a soldier when he had the right attitude and aggression harnessed. Still, he lacked in some areas- and Jan himself wouldn't exactly call him a model soldier.
"Sierżant Wójcik. Pycha ze nie jestem z wami tera. Wzioli mnie do nowej druzyny. Lima, nazywaja sie. Ja pracujem z Anglikiem, Amerykanka, i z Rosjaninem. Dobrze sa. W Pakistanie dwie dni temu, znaleźliśmy czubas z Talibanu, ktory wiedzilismy mial cos do robiena z chemikalia co probowali pryniesc do kraju. Kurcze, prawie sie wysypalo sie wszystko jak sie stalo. Ale dostalismy go. Mamy jego informacje, i tera wiem ze nic wiecej prydzie z niego.""Sergeant Wójcik. It's a shame I'm not with you now. They took me into a new team. Lima, it's called. I'm working with an Englishman, an American, and a Russian. They're good. In Pakistan two days ago, we found a dickhead from the Taliban, who they said had something to do with the chemicals they tried to bring into the country. Crap, it almost completely collapsed when we went for him. But we got him. We have his information, and I know nothing more will come of him." Jan replied, as he then checked his watch, quickly looking back at Tomas.
"No to cos. Nic nowego sie dzeje sie w druzynie. Nowy Kapitan ma nic nad toba. I robi sie gorzej tutaj. Amerykanie maja mniej i mniej pomoc dla nas. Mowja ze cos sie dzieje w Turcji- jakies bomby w polnocy kraju, czy cos. Ja nie wiem na sto procent, ale wiem ze jest chyba nastepny miesce gdzie bedziemy walczyc.""That's something. Nothing new's happening here in the team. New Captain's got nothing on you. And it's getting worse here. Americans have less and less help for us. They say something's happening in Turkey- some bombs in the north of the country, or something. I don't for hundred percent, but I know that it's probably the next place we're going to fight." Tomas replied, Jan knowing he was running a little late. He needed to get moving, and sharpish.
"Moze, moze. Ja nie wiem. Ja musze ruszac sie. Zobacze cie pozniej- chem mnie w haty operacjine w tym momentcie.""Maybe, maybe. I don't know. I've got to go- they want me in the operation hut right at this moment." Jan replied, as he edged away, aware he had little time to spare thinking about it.
"To dobra. Zobacze cie moze jutro, czy cos, Kapitanie.""Okay then. I'll see you tomorrow or something, Captain." Tomas added, as Jan nodded, walking away from the Sergeant, aware that time was limited. It was good to know that a fellow Pole was on camp- and he was genuinely surprised. It had been a short exchange due to the time restrictions, but Jan knew that he had to move right now.

Two minutes later, he arrived the ops room, quickly walking into the place and sighting Colonel Davidson, who stood by a projector.
"Colonel. Sir." Jan said, saluting as he walked over.
"At ease, Captain." Davidson said first, Jan quickly stopping the salute, and dropping to ease. Even he knew drill- he had to, or else he would have his own ass thrown back in line with the NCOs or even enlisted men. He let Davidson carry on, as
"As you may know, we're currently collecting information on this contact of yours. Omar Al-Khalid. Right now, we have him bagged and tagged in the prison at Bagram." Davidson started, Jan quickly making a point.
"Fuck me, hurray for torture. What do we know so far?" Jan said, almost sarcastically- but in a way the Colonel seemed content with. His Captain may have been a bit resistant to authority, but he led a team well, and autonomously- the result of Khalid and the stopping of the chemical weapons meant a lot.
"We know this, Captain. He's told us about the Taliban's links to an terror organization in Turkey. Not the Kurds- the TIAF. Turkish Islamic Arabic Front."
"Never heard of them, Sir." Jan replied, as Davidson seemed content with continuing.
"Recently created terror network that is what I'd call a spin-off from Al-Qaeda, being quite similar to the Chechens as well. They're employing tactics normally used by them, in the mountains of the Turkey-Georgian borders, not to mention the Armenian border regions, having also a recent development following along Turkey's borders with Iran. What I'm saying is this. The Kurds are a big threat to Turkish security. These guys just trumped them. The fact of that matter is this. We know that the Taliban has definite links to Al-Qaeda. But these fuckers are also connected to them too- and were going to be the potential destination of which the chemicals would have gone to, passing through Afghanistan as a land route safe in the Taliban's hands. It wasn't going to be delivered to one of our bases. Not to mention that the TIAF cross borders- Iranian military intelligence has seen them a threat to national security, and we suddenly have an insurgency of which is changing the game. They're interfering in Armenia and Georgia to a lesser extent, so they're not as easy a problem to swat as we would normally think. Former Chechen fighters are joining them, and rapidly- so they're a large contingent that also form them up. They have the primary fact that they will happily use suicide bombers and armed ambushes on civilians to prove their points. They're mainly aimed at turning Turkey into an Islamic state- rather than a Secular one, as is with the moment. They support hardline Sunni Islam, and they're not exactly going to be stopped with the click of a finger. General terror is their game- and the Turkish government as we speak is about to launch a counter-insurgency operation in the area prescribed." Davidson went on, Jan already quick to respond.
"So what's the link, Sir? I mean, the chemical weapons would have been used by the TIAF, but for what? And where does that put us? I know the Turks are NATO, but this is their problem, not ours." Jan said, Davidson quick to reply.
"The problem is this. I know that the Turks are going to end up in a stalemate- the Kurds have receded as a problem, and they think they know how terror works. Truth is, they haven't the faintest light. We know how terror works. You know how terror works. And it's why they're going to fuck it up in some way. I know that these TIAF bastards know something on what they were going to do with the chemicals. They could have shipped it even further, had the chemicals have passed through Turkey. It needs to be suggested- the weapons reach Europe, or Ankara- then may God have mercy upon us if that had occurred."
"Damn. So let me guess. We need more info. And it turns out that the fact that this organization is now a risk to NATO's security means that a strike would be needed."
"Exactly. We're working on decrypting and decoding Khalid's phone, so then we'll be able to establish with who and where he made contacts, not to mention which guys we need. It may take till tomorrow to establish exactly what his contacts and situation is, so right now, I need you to be alert to this threat. But the idea is simple. We find what this organization is doing- and what significance they had in relation to Khalid. We figure out where the weapons were going to go- Khalid would have never known this, so we didn't probe him for it. We figure out anything else they're doing- and we help the Turks in the process. They're hardened warriors, Captain. I know it's been a lot of action since Pakistan and Afghanistan, but I hope you're prepared to fight again."
"Roger that. I'll let the men know. Anything else I need to know on them?"
"They're armed with your usual array of weaponry- and as you can tell, in the last two months, they've risen from being small into a much larger organization. So it's no pushover to fight them. You said that Khalid's bodyguard were Arabic, correct?"
"Yes."
"Well, it helps explain some of their men, and retinue. They have received training from Al-Qaeda, so don't expect to go lightly on their tactics. Mostly armed with Kalashnikovs, and other Soviet-era weaponry. Occasional Turkish weaponry is in their inventory- G3s, MG3s, and so on. They're not specialized to their environment however- so do not expect an enemy that knows the hills inside out. Unlike the Taliban, they are mostly a recent and moving arrival, shifting too quick to establish a firm knowledge. They may have the ideas, but not the application. Keep that in mind."
"Got it."
"They're not known to have armored vehicles, but I can guess that they use some stolen BMPs, along with technicals and armoured trucks in limited use. If we need to deploy you and your team to the area, you'll have to get the men battle ready as possible, and be prepared to accept that we are only waiting on the information now. As soon as we know what the target is, you will be sent to investigate, and establish what's going on. Report on possibility of HVT capture, and establish your findings. I will further the brief on what we know when you get moving to the target- we're working on limited time, and this is of the priority. I hope you understand what I'm asking of you, Captain."
"Yes Sir. I'll have them battle ready by the evening."
"Good. I know that it's a lot to ask, but I cannot currently requisition another team to work on this, and I know that you'll do fine. Don't let me down. I'll send a runner to let you know about the operation, and get you to me so that I can fully brief you on the situation. If I don't send one, report back here anyway at 2100 Hours, and I'll inform you on the state of affairs then. Dismissed." Davidson said, finishing off, as Jan nodded, walking away after being dismissed by the Colonel. He walked out of the operations centre, and already headed back to the front of the enlisted/NCO mess hall, where he knew the rest of the team might be.

It was a pain to be ending R and R so quickly- but he knew that before they left, he'd have to at least let them enjoy what they had, and at least prep them of what was going on now- and what lay ahead. There was no doubt about it in his mind- he already knew what it potentially meant- being sent into these more hostile regions of Eastern Turkey during winter. There were mountains there- and no doubt there would be a possibility of altitude, and combat in the snow. That in itself suggested they had to use some Arctic gear, and probably suppressed weaponry for ensuring stealth. He'd need at least two hours to get both of those sorted out completely- he was considering switching to a 417 in addition, so that maybe meant that this evening was going to be going back to work. In his head, it seemed a pain- Jan knew that this was as hellish as it got, and that somehow, he had doubts. It had been an active week- and now, they were being sent straight back into the fray. They weren't probably coming back to Afghanistan, he thought to himself- they were headed for Turkey, and something about that stuck itself in his head, as a bad thing. Something just didn't sit right with him. He was quickly formulating plans, and ideas of what lay ahead. Because when they did this, there was no mistake- the other three were coming, and they were going in as they were trained to do. Still, Jan knew that before they did, at least enjoying the limited time they had left before they went out again might be good.

(Right then. I guess that I made up an insergency- it is a liberty I took, and I hope I fleshed them out as successfully as I could.)
(I'll get my characters with the rest of you soonish- I promise )

[Phreniphorm]

Zhenya looked up and gave Victoria a nod of acknowledgement before grabbing his tray and sliding to the side to make space for her. "Good," He said in response, but then thought harder about everything. The squad had effectively lost most of it's founding members. They were down a support gunner and marksman. That wasn't going to do them any favours in upcoming missions. Zhenya supposed he could switch to being the squad sniper, his marksmanship would make him a good interim marksman, though his skills still lied in assaulting and bringing the fight to the enemy. However, that would bring them down by one rifleman. He had the SVU-AS in mind as his marksman rifle of choice. It had poor range in comparison to most contemporary rifles, but it's automatic fire capability and twenty round magazines made it a very attractive choice. "But what about a support gunner or a marksman?" He asked. "I don't know what happened to our previous ones, but shouldn't we look for replacements?"

It didn't bother Zhenya that much, to operate without a full squad, but he decided to just ask anyway. Who knew? Maybe the captain had decided to make him the marksman. Zhenya wouldn't be averse to the idea, after all, he had been thinking the same just a few seconds ago. He would be slightly miffed, though. He had joined thinking that he would be another standard rifleman doing what he did best. He took another bite out of his meal and chewed as he looked at all the other soldiers milling about in the mess hall. It reminded him a lot of his home base, but with less vodka involved. He supposed that was one thing foreigners got right, the Russians did drink vodka like water. It looked close enough to water, anyway. Zhenya decided to add that to the list of things he would ask for in his next requisition order. An AEK-972, a SVU-AS and a crate of vodka. That should do well enough.

[SilverwindBlade]

"I haven't seen the boss since we've been back," replied Scott, nodding at Victorias' words. "So, I guess he must be busy talking to the top people about what's happened, and where we'll be jet-setting off to next." He returned Victorias' smile as he sipped at a can of coke, shifting his shoulders slightly and glancing around the mess hall. He turned back as Zheya spoke up again.
"Yeah - we do seem to have been knocked down a lot in numbers. Although of course, Miss Cutter has more than shown her stuff, so that helps. But yeah..." he grimaced slightly as he remembered their first mission, and continued for Victorias' benefit. "I think the chief's probably still a little cut up over our first mission. It wasn't his fault, but we took some casualties that've left us down a couple of specialists. It's not like we don't have the skills between us, but our numbers are pretty down as a result".
He shrugged at the pair, and shook his head. "We did pretty good last time, and I reckon we will again. It's just a bit, well. Unusual, you know?"

[kingkonrad]

(Lady Rawr hasn't posted for a while- I'm sure she'll come back, but I'll get my character meeting with yours while I can.)

Jan looked over at the three of them, picking out their faces among the tens of other enlisted soldiers in the mess hall. It wasn't the most popular of destinations- but Marines and other US Army/Air Force troops, staff and others found this place to be theirs for some basic food they could get their hands on. It did the job- and for the three of his squad mates, it surely did. Jan knew that the chances were that the mission wouldn't be in 24 hours time- that was too rapid a deployment, and could easily cause a logistical fuck-up for the team. Chances were, that the team would need that long to receive any kit- he could have them ready by the evening, but not properly. He needed to get his 417, Zhenya probably needed a better weapon than his AS VAL and chances were that Scott was on the same tier of thought- after all, Jan knew that despite his 416 performing nicely in urban environments, the 417 would be a much better weapon for branched out combat, and a little more range never hurt. That and the fact that the 417 had a dedicated silencer- one that seemed to fit it quite nicely, rather than the usual QD that he used on his 416. He knew that he also had to go over the mission schematics- the rest of the kit needed to be found, taken and delivered, not to mention being able to get them prepared for what next. Even though Jan knew the Colonel wanted a quick reaction to this, he knew that the team would probably be better off being half ready for the evening, but fully prepared for tomorrow.

There wasn't a doubt in Jan's mind that the Colonel would be no doubt, pissed off at this. But he knew he allowed for the team to be mostly autonomous, and even though being battle ready in 12 hours seemed like a good idea, being battle ready tomorrow night would be a much better one, and would have a better effect- especially with the fact that it at least made the transport that they would be getting more prepared for their movement, to Turkey when required. Jan had a funny feeling about the entire idea of this all- and knew that expecting the TIAF weren't going to be easy to crack. After all, despite being much more low-key than the Taliban, it almost seemed like they had some sort of popularity in the areas they were in. Jan had no idea of what it was- but something just didn't sit right with him. Getting Scott an anti-tank weapon would be a must- an AT4, SMAW or Carl Gustav of some kind would be good, to allow for some tactical flexibility involving the possibility of BMPs, technicals, or heavily entrenched positions that required a bunker-buster to get through. They lacked an Automatic Rifleman and Sniper, not to mention an effective Pointman. Victoria was practically the Grenadier of the squad now, not to mention the intel and CIA link they had- while Jan knew himself, Scott and Zhenya shared a lot of roles. He had seen a marksman in Zhenya thinking about it- and knew to himself that a sniper wouldn't go amiss for him. While for Scott, maybe giving him an LMG might work- but Jan knew that for their next mission, it was highly unlikely that they required an LMG or GPMG on station to provide heavy suppression fire. Himself, he worked best with assault rifles and carbines- sub-machine guns and shotguns were quite effective in his hands, and he considered perhaps taking an 870, UMP, MP7 or even an AA-12 to at least have a good tactical option in breaching and close quarters. He didn't want to really change Victoria's setup- as it stood, it was fine, and didn't really need much adjustment. Overall, he knew that the squad still held it's own quite well- despite the casualties and problems back on their first mission, things were going well. But Jan couldn't help but feel horrid during the week. The dust in his mouth, and the pain in his head- about the men that had suffered. The other four in the team. Alejhandro being shot dead in front of his own eyes, and the other four who had seen too much. Max, Gunther, Jonas, Alard, people who in Jan's mind still existed, yet didn't. Their fates he didn't want to remember- right now, he had other priorities to make. Only to make sure that never happened again.

He walked through the doors, headed straight toward the three that were sitting and talking, while eating their food. Breaking the news would be shit- he knew that Zhenya would want out of this place anyway, but even so, it would be a little painful to tell them that now it was the case of being day in, day out of combat. Especially that it was non-local- and even though Jan knew that they were soldiers, they were still human beings. Pain, and shit was do-able in their mindsets- but it still pissed him off. Usually, being switched around with another team worked quite well- but it was only them. So it meant no respite, no thinking about rest. Only doing whatever was asked, and getting it done- and more than just to a satisfactory level. Perfection was needed. As he saw the three of them, he looked at them in turn, his mood casual yet still authoritative.
"Gentlemen, Victoria. Hate to interrupt you here, but we have a hitch. Colonel Davidson's got orders for a strike in Eastern Turkey, based on intel off of Khalid's person and phone. We need to be battle-ready by tomorrow evening, so make whatever orders you have for equipment and weaponry today, or else make do with whatever you get thrown with. Snow gear will be required, and I assume that we need to probably use silenced weaponry. I know R and R is ongoing, but I want you to keep that in mind. Victoria, I need to talk to you personally about the intel and security situation- and I need to ask what you know about the TIAF." Jan said, looking at them in turn, aware that despite him being an officer, and probably to all of them now, a bit of a prick, he had to make this kind of statement now rather than later. He just hoped they took it well- after all, after what they had seen over the past few days, it seemed remarkable that this was how far they went to do what they did best.

[Lady Rawr]

As Victoria sat and poked at the questionable food on her plate she listened to the pair’s conversation. It was easy enough to tell that Zhenya was slightly restless and eager to get back out into the action, despite the fact that they practically only just returned. Quite the soldier indeed she thought to herself, listing off his attributes in her mind that she had witnessed from the slightly stoic Russian – his efficiency and ruthlessness she had definitely noticed, as well as the fact that he seemed to get a thorough sense of satisfaction from completing their objectives at whatever the cost. It was easy enough to see why the man had been chosen for the task force despite his national ties – he always seemed to get results and never hesitated in the moment, something which Victoria had seen more than enough seasoned veterans fall victim too.

Turning her head to glance at Scott as he spoke Victoria listened and nodded ignoring the mush on her plate as he commented on the first mission and their losses. As she watched him Victoria couldn’t help but grin a little to herself, his British accent and sense of humour definitely appealing to her. He isn’t too bad looking either she thought before she forcibly blanked her mind at the inappropriate thought chastising herself quickly and avoiding his gaze involuntarily as she did so. Clearing her throat slightly Victoria responded “Yeah I can definitely relate to that, its always a shit feeling when people who are depending on you… well yeah you know, its hard not to repeat the mission over and over in your head wondering what could of gone differently” before a small lump forced its way back up into her throat as it always seemed to whenever she thought about her last operation before being officially transferred to Lima. Pushing the thoughts from her mind and not particularly wanting to discuss the operation in Afghanistan either - as she was unsure if the pair were aware of her part in the mission at all or not and decided it was best to leave things like that for the Captain to clear up whenever it was necessary.
“Well” she said “I’m sure between the four of us we can handle whatever we need to, though I’d have to agree that a little extra support couldn’t go amiss.”

As she finished speaking the Captain emerged from across the room and beginning with an apology he began to explain their next assignment. Eastern Turkey – the location didn’t surprise Victoria particularly as she had managed to decipher some scraps of the information on Khalid’s phone before she’d sent it on, not that she should particularly mention that to anyone.

“This time of year it’s definitely going to be cold” she said with a slight grimace whishing for once that something would happen in a nice temperate zone as opposed to the more extreme temperatures that they seemed to be stuck with. As Jan went on and asked Victoria about the TIAF she closed her eyes and thought for a moment before she listed off what she knew. “The ‘Turkish Islamic Arabic Front’ are nasty bastards” she begun with “They are relatively new in the grand scheme of things but they’ve gained plenty of support in their operating regions and already have links to nearly all of the big terror organisations you’d expect them too, plus numerous smaller cells.” Pausing briefly she continued “If they’re the ones who almost got their hands on those chems then I can definitely see why they’re calling us in on this one” She didn’t want to say it but they all knew that Turkey’s special forces, whether the JÖH or Maroon Berets, weren’t celebrated for their finesse. “I’d assume they’ll be using the expected kind of equipment from the local area as well as an assortment of soviet toys” she added resisting the urge to glance towards Zhenya as she spoke.

“Aside from that I can check into the specifics to see what else we know about the group, but I suppose you don’t need me to tell you that we wouldn’t of expected them to be getting involved in such a high-stakes game this early on – so something very unsettling and potentially destructive must be going on.” As she finished she looked down at her food again which had still remained practically untouched. She still wasn’t able to eat particularly well after everything that had happened and she was occasionally wracked with stomach pain, which if it continued much longer she’d probably have to get checked out again to make sure everything was okay with her health.

Ignoring the meal and placing her fork down she waited to see the others response to this rapid re-development into hostile space, realising that most soldiers would’ve complained a great deal about their R&R being cut short. Looking over at Zhenya she could already see that he definitely wasn’t upset at all by the news, if anything he looked pleased. But I guess that’s what makes us different from the rest, she thought briefly – we are members of practically the most elite Special Forces unit in the world.

[Phreniphorm]

"Good," Zhenya replied and nodded his head as he heard the Captain's words. Despite his reply, Zhenya was in fact feeling quite apprehensive. Yes, he had wanted to go on a mission, but not on such short notice. He was going to hope his command did express deliveries. In light of the new mission parameters, he was going to think of a replacement for the SVU. It was good, but the range was nowhere near sufficient given the terrain of Eastern Turkey. The Captain had said to use winter camouflage as well, so Zhenya doubted they would be spending a lot of time in urban environments, where the SVU would shine. It's longer cousin, the SVD, particularly the SVDS, would be a much better choice. "I will have to make preparations," He said and stood up. Nodding to each member of the squad in turn, and giving the captain a quick salute, he left the mess hall and walked back to the bunks. He wasn't sure if he shared it with the squad, but this was where he was told he would be sleeping. It didn't matter to Zhenya at the moment, all he needed was for it to be empty.

He took out his PDA and laid it on on his bed. It wasn't anything too fancy. To anyone, it would've just looked like a personal addition to the standard kit. However, it was Zhenya's only secure link to his high command which he had at all times. It also functioned as a GPS and a real-time map, but Zhenya never used it for those purposes. He took out a rolled-up flexible keyboard from another pocket and unrolled it. It was perhaps the only thing he had on him that wasn't issued to him by the Spetsnaz. He had seen in on sale at a small store a few years ago while he was on a mandatory break and had thought that it would be something handy to have around. Now, he never felt more vindicated. He connected the keyboard to the PDA and typed a quick report and requisition order to his command, basically detailing what was going on and what he needed. He took special care to mention that they had a CIA agent in the squad and requested that his command advise him on how to continue on his mission.

He received a reply almost instantaneously. I guess that's what happens if you mention CIA. He said wryly to himself. Command told him that there would be a plane landing at Bagram at around four in the afternoon carrying all the equipment he needed. It mentioned that it would be a small plane so Zhenya would know what to look out for. Checking the time on his PDA, he noted that he had more than twelve hours between now and the aircraft's arrival. With little to do, Zhenya packed up his items and lied back down on the bed. A good, long sleep would be nice.

---

Fourteen hours later, Zhenya opened his eyes again. He threw his legs over the side of his bed and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Shaking his head, he got to his feet and quietly exited the bunks. He was surprised at himself, being able to sleep close to a day at one stretch. Perhaps he should have expected it. He was still human, after all, and the previous missions did wear him out a lot, considering that he got shot at, nearly blown to pieces by a grenade and subsequently battered by said grenade's blast wave.. He slowly walked to the airstrip, there was still roughly an hour to go before he could expect the plane the arrive. He stood at the edge of the runway's safe zone with his hands in his pockets. There was a slight chill, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. He had suffered worse. Just then, he felt his PDA vibrate and he took it out of his pocket. Much to his surprise, it was a message from command. The AN-72 carrying his gear would be landing in ten minutes. Zhenya was used to things being on time or late, but never early. Command must have placed his missions at quite a high priority.

Exactly ten minutes later, the AN-72 roared down the runway, coming to a stop very shortly. Zhenya quickly ran onto the runway as the plane turned to stop at a safe area in case another aircraft was coming in to land. He reached the plane just as the cargo door was lowered and he stepped in. There was only a few boxes, one for the SVDS, one for the AEK and another carrying the rest of his gear. He stacked the boxes on top of one another and was prepared to carry them out when he heard a voice call out to him. "Sergeant Derzhavin?" It asked in Russian.

"Yes?" Zhenya replied in the same language, put down the boxes and turned around. Perhaps the pilot needed something.

"I am an agent from the SVR. I assume you have heard of us?" The voice asked. Zhenya couldn't make out much of the person due to the darkness. He knew that it was a male from the voice, and that he was wearing a suit. Apart from that, however, Zhenya couldn't see anything else.

"Yes," Zhenya replied. The SVR, while smaller than the GRU and fielding less agents, was more well-known for their various assassination missions, both during the Soviet era and after. Needless to say, Zhenya wasn't feeling particularly pleased about having an agent visit him. His life could suddenly become very short. "What do you need?" Zhenya asked professionally.

"Straight to the point, I like that." The agent said with a chuckle. Then, his voice turned serious. "Your latest report mentions that you are going on a mission against the TIAF in Eastern Turkey to search for links to chemical weapons in Taliban hands, correct?"

"Possibly."

"No need to play around here, Zhenya. I know." The agent said and cleared his throat. "Just yesterday, Chechen rebels attacked several trams in Grozny utilizing chemical weapons. Estimates are at close to a hundred dead and many more wounded. Needless to say, the GRU worked quickly to determine just how the rebels got the weapons. We followed the trail all the way to Afghanistan. Good work on the village, by the way. Then we found links between the weapons and the TIAF. You know how we operate, we don't just want the distributors to stop. We want them annihilated." The agent said and paused. "Long story short, the SVR has deployed agents in the same region. What kind of agents, I'm not allowed to tell you. Just know that they are in deep cover."

"What do you want me to do about it?" Zhenya asked and folded his arms.

"Simple. I'm not saying they cannot be killed, they know the risks. But..." He took out a PDA and handed it to Zhenya. "Carry this with you. It will allow the agents to track you. All you have to do is lead us to the terrorists and we will take care of the rest. If you find the chemical weapons, even better. If you find nothing, just tell us everything you know."

"I have a CIA agent on my squad. You honestly think this will go undetected?" Zhenya asked.

"I don't think. I know." The SVR agent said and Zhenya could hear the smug grin in his voice. "The CIA will not know a thing. Even if they do, you have plausible deniability. Just say that you didn't know. We know that the SVR has a reputation. It wouldn't be hard to believe that we would use one of our own."

Zhenya clenched his jaw. This wasn't his mission. He was only in the squad to protect Russian interests in the event they stumble across anything that might threaten Russia. Playing spy was out of the parameters, or was it? This wasn't too different from protecting Russian interests. In fact, they were pretty much the same. No one would miss the terrorists if they died, after all, nor would they miss the chemical weapons. Even if he got caught, he could deny everything, like the agent had said. It was practically a win-win situation. Zhenya nodded and took the PDA. "Anything else?" He asked.

"Yes," The agent said and took out several envelopes. "I intercepted these. Military mail would take days to reach you, and they would go to camp Bastion. You are lucky I happened to come across them."

Zhenya took the envelopes and looked at the addresses. They were all mail from home, from his family. It was a welcome sight, though not the letter from his father. His father was always business and never wrote to ask about things. More like he wrote to just tell Zhenya that he was expecting a lot from him and the usual 'don't let me down' spiel. "Thank you," Zhenya said.

"We use our own to meet our ends, but we also take care of our own." The agent replied. "Now you best be off. Wouldn't want anyone getting suspicious."

Zhenya nodded and left the plane with his boxes. He stood at the edge of the runway and stayed there until the plane had left his field of view before going to the quartermaster. He removed everything from the boxes and passed the equipment over to him for safekeeping. Command had even issued him a GP-7V gas mask. It would certainly come in handy if chemical weapons were involved. Better still, hidden under the BDUs was a clear bottle of vodka, something Zhenya desperately needed. A drink would do wonders to clear his mind. Holding his bottle of vodka, he walked towards the mess hall, stopping only at a fast food joint to buy a burger. He took his seat at a corner of the mess hall and started looking at the letters he had gotten. He ignored the one from his father and looked through the rest.

One of them was written in a very untidy scrawl, much like a child's. Zhenya didn't need to think. He opened that envelope first and unfolded the letter. It was written in big, untidy handwriting. Zhenya smiled to himself as he read the letter. If he had a favorite in his family, it would have to be his six year old niece. She was the only person of the family still young enough to not understand what Zhenya did for a living. As far as she knew, he was a soldier and that was it. Everyone else at least had some idea as to the less-than-legal side of Zhenya's job, partially due to his father who enjoyed telling stories of his time in the KGB. No one needed to know it, but there were times in Chechnya when Zhenya really felt burned out and ready to break at a moment's notice. However, all he needed to do was to just think of his niece and he'd be ready for the fight again.

Zhenya folded the letter and opened the bottle of vodka, taking a quick drink and enjoying the warmth it brought him. Such moments were rare for him, and despite his willingness to enter battle and his restlessness during rest periods, he found himself enjoying the moment. Sorting through his gear could wait. For now, he just wanted some time to himself.