The last time she had stepped on a Stealth-Chinook, she was speaking fluent Russian to the 5 or 6 Spetsnaz operatives, informing them that trying to speak a different language to avoid being caught out for commenting on her body in a sexual way wasn't the smartest idea, nor the most professional. And the Chinook smelled more like Vodka than piss. The blood stain on the floor of the craft didn't bother her too much. It was a common sight, but more often than not, it was cleaned off before the next mission. Strange.

Her gaze flickered between the other 5 members who bordered the craft, she could already tell that some of them had the military capacity of a 10 year old boy playing shooting games in his mother's basement. Just a feeling. A vibe if you will.

The pilot seemed more cheery than most. It was almost unnerving how articulate he was about what they were doing. But this pilot seemed better than the others that she had met, so she felt some confidence in him, even if he didn't show his face to them.

Yuumi opened her crate, which was slightly more rectangular than the others. Standard Beretta M9 with a silencer, standard issue gear/equipment and a PSG-1 Sniper rifle. Although she was more comfortable with a Dragunov, she had no problems with using it, much like any other sniper rifle. She examined her uniform for a moment to figure out it's structure and how to wear it.. She changed into her uniform with the efficiency of a factory machine, not a single action wasted on fiddling with small things. It was a simple uniform, to her anyway.

She glanced at the Scotsman that spoke, whom she now knew as 'Tavish'. His comment.. or rather joke made it sound like he was from a more vulgar background, but it was best that she kept that to herself. Unrest and disagreement between comrades led to petty mistakes in missions which can lead to failure of the operation. Something she had experienced before, but it didn't involve her personally at the time. [color=00aeef]"Aoyama Yuumi."[/color] She responded in a perfectly normal Japanese accent, however slightly deeper than one would expect of a Japanese woman. [color=00aeef]"You may call me 'Yuumi'."[/color] This time her voice held a pronounced Russian accent. She didn't expect anyone to constantly call her by her surname, she wasn't with any other Japanese people either. She didn't expect Westerners to understand the Japanese way of Surname-First name basis.