Face a bit incredulous, Pen muttered, [color=darkred]"Maybe not attack, hmm..."[/color]

Leaning in, he began in hushed tones, [color=darkred]"They said 'When the ants reach, the bird's shell shall fall' and now they're going on about where they're going to go after. Back to the message though: 'Birds' and 'gulls' are Marines. 'Shell' is definitely base, fortress, something in that vein. But where, and what are 'ants'?"[/color]

Leaning back, Pen continued to think, ear hovering by the conversation. Grabbing his fork, he took another bite and...maybe it was because the salmon was brain food, restarting gears long since unturned, but Pen whispered, [color=darkred]"Wait...if they never mentioned where then...I think it's going to be [i]here[/i]. You know what kind of boats are coming in today?"[/color]

Looking over the large man again, Pen shook his head, [color=darkred]"Nah, you wouldn't know."[/color] Caressing his forehead, Pen admitted, [color=darkred]"The brass doesn't like us getting info from down here...not that many know how. Usually I 'accidentally' end up near where something's going down if I can but...shit, not sure what to do here."[/color]

Leaning back in his seat, arms folded behind his head, he sighed, [color=darkred]"Maybe it's best not to bother..."[/color]