Hector slung the FN Minimi up against his back as the mission brief began- easily accessible enough, but he didn't think he'd need it. The key to this operation was stealth, and an LMG was not the way to go about being stealthy. He briefly checked the sights on the M4, finding them satisfactory, before they were all hustled out of the transport. He thought about the mission at hand, and was again disappointed at the apparent callousness of his new bosses. The least they could have done is told them what was so important about this Brosnan character, rather than just flinging them all into the fire. He bit back a sigh, not wanting to make too much noise.

[color=crimson]A proper map would have been nice, too. But it's as they said- we are Foxhound, now. We gotta figure it out on our own.[/color] It wasn't really a problem, ultimately- Hector had been in less-organized operations before. They usually involved a lot of blood and fire and wasted ordnance, that sort of thing. At least no one was screaming here. Yet. The sniper spoke to them all in clipped tones, stating her intention to wander off and find a place to cover them. That suited him just fine. He quirked an eyebrow at her accent, but elected to ignore it- his own accent was almost incomprehensible, he had no room to judge. He nodded in the direction of the sniper.

[color=crimson]"Good call."[/color] With that, he took up the trail position of their column of soldiers, walking briskly, yet quietly, to keep up with their point man. He adjusted the balaclava and NVG over his face, a nervous habit of his that he'd never quite been able to break. He thought he had a right to be nervous, however. After all, this was it. Off to whatever charnel house awaited them.