"Rise and shine Captain!"
Ugh...did they have to be fitted with those damn augmented reality systems?
Immediately, yet groggily, the woman with the ugly scar across her face was jarred awake by the booming, boisterous voice of their handler, Special Agent Johnathan Starker, Johnny Boy Evelyn had taken to calling him so cheekily, and much to his chagrin. She glanced about, bleary eyed for a moment from her rude awakening, allowing her vision to adjust with a few sporadic blinks of her ice blue eyes. She stretched and released from her lungs a rather...silent yawn, merely miming the action with just a breath of air exhaled, before shambling out of bed over to the stereo close by on the bookshelf, a small welcoming gift from the agency no less. Her finger pressed the on switch, and in a matter of seconds, the dismal hum of fluorescent lights was drowned in the mournful wails of Dimebag Darrel's enigmatic guitar playing and the soulful yet gritty voice of Phil Anselmo. The song, Hollow, it reminded her of those days, waking up to the burning sun glaring down upon her, the sting of sand and rocks being blown in her face by a shrill wind, the rumble of humvees and Stryker APCs past her tent, culminating with the distant patter of a firefight over the mountains...but...this wasn't Afghanistan. This was something different.
It seemed to be early, but since the facility was buried under the ground in God knows where, there was no way to tell what the exact time was, so it was imperative Evelyn hurriedly dress and gather her equipment before embarking. A sigh exhaled as she struck her pajamas, consisting only of an old faded Metallica: And Justice for All T, a few holes and tears here and there, and slipped on her black training bra, the gruff voice of Starker resumed in her ear overpowering her music, uncompromising in his emotional neutrality and precise in his pronunciation, though his well practiced American accent betraying a slight German inflection, "I trust you are well rested. Briefing on your first mission will be at O-Nine Hundred hours in the briefing room. Director Valentine will fill you in on the details. Assemble the rest of your team and rendezvous there. Dismissed."
Suddenly, the AR system kicked it into high gear after Starker's voice faded from earshot. In the lower left corner of Ev's vision, there appeared translucent, emerald colored digital numbers displaying the current temperature of the room, bone chilling at this point, and on the right, the current time. A flickering 3D mini-map also faded into view, a strand of light indicating the pathway towards the briefing room...as if Ev didn't know it already. She wasted no time getting dressed in the rest of her clothing, a black tank top and matching rip-stop cargos, along with her boots and her black M65 field jacket, then through the AR's earpiece, she contacted the rest of her squad, "Team, get your lazy asses up. Rendezvous at the briefing room in twenty mikes. Ev out."
Ugh...did they have to be fitted with those damn augmented reality systems?
Immediately, yet groggily, the woman with the ugly scar across her face was jarred awake by the booming, boisterous voice of their handler, Special Agent Johnathan Starker, Johnny Boy Evelyn had taken to calling him so cheekily, and much to his chagrin. She glanced about, bleary eyed for a moment from her rude awakening, allowing her vision to adjust with a few sporadic blinks of her ice blue eyes. She stretched and released from her lungs a rather...silent yawn, merely miming the action with just a breath of air exhaled, before shambling out of bed over to the stereo close by on the bookshelf, a small welcoming gift from the agency no less. Her finger pressed the on switch, and in a matter of seconds, the dismal hum of fluorescent lights was drowned in the mournful wails of Dimebag Darrel's enigmatic guitar playing and the soulful yet gritty voice of Phil Anselmo. The song, Hollow, it reminded her of those days, waking up to the burning sun glaring down upon her, the sting of sand and rocks being blown in her face by a shrill wind, the rumble of humvees and Stryker APCs past her tent, culminating with the distant patter of a firefight over the mountains...but...this wasn't Afghanistan. This was something different.
It seemed to be early, but since the facility was buried under the ground in God knows where, there was no way to tell what the exact time was, so it was imperative Evelyn hurriedly dress and gather her equipment before embarking. A sigh exhaled as she struck her pajamas, consisting only of an old faded Metallica: And Justice for All T, a few holes and tears here and there, and slipped on her black training bra, the gruff voice of Starker resumed in her ear overpowering her music, uncompromising in his emotional neutrality and precise in his pronunciation, though his well practiced American accent betraying a slight German inflection, "I trust you are well rested. Briefing on your first mission will be at O-Nine Hundred hours in the briefing room. Director Valentine will fill you in on the details. Assemble the rest of your team and rendezvous there. Dismissed."
Suddenly, the AR system kicked it into high gear after Starker's voice faded from earshot. In the lower left corner of Ev's vision, there appeared translucent, emerald colored digital numbers displaying the current temperature of the room, bone chilling at this point, and on the right, the current time. A flickering 3D mini-map also faded into view, a strand of light indicating the pathway towards the briefing room...as if Ev didn't know it already. She wasted no time getting dressed in the rest of her clothing, a black tank top and matching rip-stop cargos, along with her boots and her black M65 field jacket, then through the AR's earpiece, she contacted the rest of her squad, "Team, get your lazy asses up. Rendezvous at the briefing room in twenty mikes. Ev out."