---

The first of the few arrived in, already kitted out with what he had to offer. At a distance, he couldn't fully figure out which individual it was, but as he got closer the insignia of the SRR was made clear. Someone he could relate to, at the very least, it was a good thing that the man was the first to approach him, determined to make a good impression it seemed. Franklin had to give him credit, there was a spark in his Welshman's tone that showed determination. If only determination was enough to carry them through this agonising campaign. Either way, he was dressed for the occasion and was preparing to get his equipment handed to him. On the contrary, he was up for a chat, and the operators did have a small amount of time to gather their surroundings and converse before the final checks were in place. Franklin nodded towards the man's comments, notifying that his nostalgia for Hereford's base was quite the spectacular sight. The SAS, SRR and SBS were, though under strict rule, allowed to train within these before Rainbow was reactivated. Once they were, all outside third-party operators were no longer allowed anywhere near it.

Because Franklin had made the trip earlier than everyone else, he was already mostly kitted out with equipment that he would wear. Strapped to his hips were his prize possession, the one that he held so close to his heart. Every time his eyes looked through the sonar piece, he would always whisper the names of those who helped construct it but failed to live long enough to see results. But only when he had placed a balaclava and armoured headgear atop his scalp would he wire it up to his head and eye. For times like these, when his face was on show, he would simply keep it closely intact with his body.

His mind ceased its drift for a second as he realised he had to respond to this man. Ghost, as so his alias was. Though the time spent on field consisted of only using callsigns, knowing that his name was Rob was a necessity for off-duty interactions. And so, he opened his mouth and finally began to speak in a somewhat normal manner, flashing his own national accent back towards the Welshman.

"Ghost, ey? I guess Six has already set her plans on your talents then. Name's Franklin, though since Bellagio I go by the alias of Sonar now." Without hesitation, he shot out his hand and gave him a semi-firm shake for the two to indulge. It was, obviously, the first general sign to British camaraderie. That and the possible banter to further come from here onward. "I know what you mean. Never gets old, though it never feels new. The lads here are just top of the league, for me at least. From what I've analysed, today's exercise is a bungalow home-invasion scenario, just from the setting that is. The only time when I've felt its repetition was in the recent weeks where they kept trying to recreate the Bellagio inci-..."

Franklin's words trailed off from where they were, however not in fear or realisation for what he was talking about. A small error crossed his mind in the form of the Filipino operator who followed inwards. There wasn't much wrong with him as such as he was likely a talented fighter, but something about his appearance just seemed a bit...off. When he approached, it clicked into Franklin's mind where he saw the almost comical streaks of cam-cream stroked across his cheeks in double lines. At first, he just stood still, staring at him and chuckling in disbelief with his hands firmly tucked within his pockets, but he soon realised that the waste of resources being taken here was quite serious as a whole. They were fully kitted out, Rainbow, but even the smallest things like such could not be used so informally without any beneficial reasoning. He took a few bootsteps forward, raising his finger and standing in front of the operator before wiping his finger across his cheek and checking the stains that transferred onto his own hand.

"Cam-cream?" He raised an eyebrow and stared back at the man with a slightly amused smile drawn onto his face. "Not a good first impression. I can understand if you think looking like a bootlegged Rambo makes you tactically superior, but if you're going to bother using precious cam-cream, at least do something proper with it. None of this Apocalypse Now shit."

More and more operators were starting to turn up, so Franklin drew himself away from the Filipino to spare him from the embarrassment of being bollocked in front of them. But before he could move far, already the more eager Jess was beside him, gently asking about their weaponry for the day. A thin smile came to Franklin's expression before he shook his head and gave her some answers. He hoped not to disappoint her, but it was true, they were going to be using Rubber-pellet weapons that were modeled after the famous M16A3 commonly seen throughout the media. It was their only major way of getting advanced riot-control weaponry to at least simulate the testing. Operators hated being hit by those small rubber pieces as they stung like a bitch the next day, so a slight caution and mindset for survival was pressured onto them. Sure, it wasn't bullets, nor was it lethal, but it did its best to simulate what they could.

"Mike told us to use the M16A3s again. Until we get a fresh shipment of rubber-compatible weaponry with more variation, we're stuck with them. Last shipment ended up going to the bloody Scotland Yard."

_{@CaptainSully@Liotrent@Lady Selune}

Jamie Underwood

---

If, at that moment early in the morning, one happened to walk into Jamie's room, one would not assume she were a highly trained enforcer of the law, but instead some kind of 'free-spirited' person with little responsiblity. Her covers were a mess already. The room was dark, but one could make out the sleeping mass of scattered arms and legs, as well as her audible snoring.

The digital alarm screeched it's harsh warning, something Jamie had to learn a long time ago to wake her from her slumber. Her eyes flashed open and she flailed, falling out of her bed. "Wuh~?" She mumbled, confused, as she stood to her feet. This wasn't the last room she went to sleep in. Where was she? What was going on? The alarm waking her up so cruelly gave her the strange feeling in her chest. The very real fright of being jarrignly torn away from her sleep immediately proven baseless always gave her heart a nervous humidity.

Oh, right. Rainbow. Memories came to her groggily. Fourty minutes to get ready. This place had an in-built shower. Ridiculously fancy. Jamie almost felt bad about it, it was so fancy. Almost- that's the key word. Almost felt bad. Luckily, no one was around to see her absolute travesty of a bed. Her drill instructor would have torn her head off if he found out. Genuinely embarrassed, Jamie quickly fixed her bed as her "breakfast" was being made. Jamie never learned to actually cook, so she would be enjoying toast, cereal, and orange juice. It was like college all over again, except less alcohol and more PTSD. This place a thick cloud hanging over it- everyone in here was a total mope. If there's one thing that cheered everyone up it was successful operations- which is why she was little disappointed they were wasting time 'training'.

Jamie never drank coffee. She could count on two hands the amount of time she's ever had a cup of the sinster brown liquid. It made her hyper and tired all at once, and the desire to have another cup was enough to make her never want to touch it again. Caffeine was a drug!

Now in her fatigues, her hair tied into her traditional bun, Jamie had spaced out, staring a blank corner of the room with a blank look on her face, idly stirring the bowl of milk in front of her. So milk went a bit all over the surface of the table when a few minutes after 6, the silence was broken by a loud knocking and yelling about the armory. Jamie blinked, exasperated, shaking her head as she stood up, flattening her second pair of fatigues onto her body and quickly making her way down into the armory.

She placed the kevlar vest over herself, as well as leg, thigh, forearm and shoulder pads to protect herself from the training bullets. While usually she went a bit lighter on the clothing (to look badass) even a small layer would actually protect her against whatever they would be shooting at each other today. But a real bullet? Long shirt sleeves wouldn't do anything but stuck on a door handle in a freak accident that would make her obituary tragically sad. She also held her helmet beneath her armpit, not wanting to put it on until just before the training session.

Jamie was slightly later than a few of the other operators, who were already engaged in a conversation. It seemed someone was complaining about having to use one of the greatest firearms ever invented; the M16 and it's subsequent iterations. Third in line, right after the M1 Garand, which was second only to the M1911 pistol. She saw Aleks, trying to make eye contact and giving a 'subtle' wave. After that, she saw her superiors, and she quickly tried to find the line and stood at attention.

"Underwood, reporting for training, Sir," she said officially, hands folded behind her back and her shoulders square.

---

Arising from a nightmare-torn sleep to the sound of her alarm, Ella's first instinct was to reach for the revolver near her bed, and her second was to do a full check of the room around her. Realising she was, perhaps, the safest she'd ever been, she relaxed and wiped the sweat from her brow. It was 2 in the morning, after an early night, Ella had decided to rise early, as she realised she had no idea about this place, how it worked when things happened, so she played it safe and awoke as early as she could while still having a full night's sleep.

Putting on "Clair de lune" by French composer Claude Debussy, Ella began to make breakfast, and to Ella, 'making breakfast' was preparing a bottle of nutrient shake and sipping it as she practised her Arabic. Ella had always found French music to be so close to her heart, and so moving for her, even though she had never had a chance to visit the country, it spoke to her. Her breakfast was not normally this brisk, but for the sake of ease in a new environment, she decided it best to start off simple, and not cause any complications. She was not, as you would say, a skilled chef.

The next four hours for Ella were just a case of working out, completing her morning routine, and ensuring her mind was active for the rest of the day, practising foreign languages as well as those she had already mastered, working on her own compositions, and ensuring all her gear was ready to go whenever she was needed. At the 6 o'clock wakeup call, she was more than ready and energised to head out, collecting the gear she had with her, decidedly leaving the revolver with live rounds in her room, as an accident with that would be extremely fatal.

Still, she was one of the last to arrive at the training grounds, as there were a few bits of calibration to be done to the songbirds. She had brought ten of them with her, and a couple of eavesdroppers, as it would be interesting to see how the rest of the operators interacted with them.

She listened in to a couple of conversations, and paid particular interest to one of the operators being chastised for his use of cam-cream, and thought of the poor unfortunate soul who had decided on some stylistic 'makeup' choice. Compared to some of the other operators, she felt under-geared. Her uniform was not as fully covered as some others, is lightweight for the busy streets of Hong-Kong, and ensures that silence could be kept when it needed to be. She did spot one operator, an American female she believed, who appeared to have armour similar to hers in style, less bulky than a lot of the other operators.

One thing she did notice that she immediately regretted was the commonplace use of gas masks. While her 'bandana' over her mouth was specially designed to keep some gasses out of the system, by the accounts of what the White Masks were using, it would be near useless. It would be an investment she would have to make.

Looking out for a known face, she sought if she could see Jane amongst the group of operators, but it appeared she had not arrived yet. Ella supposed it wouldn't hurt to make friends with some of the operators, but they all seemed otherwise occupied, apart from the American female she had previously spotted. She strolled up to her and offered her hand, as well as a warm, if not small, smile.

"Hey there, I'm Ella, and Songbird is my operator alias. What shall I call you? I see you prefer the versatility of lighter clothing than the heavier garbs the other operators prefer to wear."

@Bee @Zoey White

---

Rousing awake at the wee hours of the morning, Jane lied in her bed for a couple of minutes. It was nothing but the gray darkness, but Jane was still trying to process her new environment and the undertaking that had finally happened. Well, as much as she would've liked, nothing was going to get done from her bed, especially in a place like this where everyone was most likely up and at them already. Rolling out of bed, she quickly made her bed and proceeded to take care of her morning routine. A shower, freshening up, breakfast, and some time in the firing range were in order.

Jet lag was definitely present, but right now it was the least of Jane's concerns. There was a training exercise today, and that meant Jane had to be sharper than a blade to put on a good showing for the leader of Rainbow. Not like that would be a difficult feat to accomplish, anyway. It didn't take her long to get her shower and her breakfast consisting of tea and toast in, so most of her morning was going to be spent in the firing range. Checking out her signature MP5, she proceeded to a booth and got ready to fire some rounds down the range. Taking a deep breath, she hunched forward and held the MP5 out so that the sling was fully extended. The SAS training roots of the SDU was very evident when watching someone like Jane Feng operate. In a way, Jane was at a second home, but there was nothing like Hong Kong.

Two shots, then one. Two in center mass, and one in the head. The Mozambique Drill. That was the ideal shot to land. It was guaranteed to neutralize any tango that was unfortunate enough to be the recipient of it. However, it wasn't going to happen most of the time, but it was good practice. Jane spent the rest of the time in the range swapping through drills and patterns. It was a great way to sharpen her skills despite most of these drills not being applicable in the real world. As a matter of fact, the Asian operator had lost track of time, and before she knew it, she was five minutes over the call time. Damn it. Not a good thing to do on the first day with this unit. Fortunately, she wasn't too far from the armory, which was a short distance away from where she was currently.

Unloading her MP5, she exchanged it for a version more suitable to handle training rounds, as well her Glock and her Welrod. There wasn't enough time for her to get fully dressed in her BDU. Thus, she scooped up a Kevlar vest, some gloves, and some kneepads and made her way to the training grounds. Hopefully she wasn't too late. But knowing the nature of special forces like this, she probably was late. Not a good start at all.

Much to her delight, though, there were still operators making their way to the rendezvous as she arrived. Settling down, Jane took a moment to double check her weapons. They were all loaded with the appropriate rounds. Her special Welrod had been outfitted with a round that had a lesser version of the poison. It was going to fuck someone up, but after some rest and some water they'd be just fine in a few hours. Looking around, she had noticed that there was another Asian female. Looking a bit closer, she came to the realization that this wasn't just any Asian female.

It was Ella Tam. The third female to make it past the SDU selection progress. So the SDU had decided to send all of their females here, hm? Well, she was a good operator, Jane didn't see a reason for her not to be here. They'd never worked together directly, but if she was here then she must have been good. She wanted to introduce herself. Walking over to the girl, she noticed that there was another woman there. Oh no. This was going to create an awkward situation. Finding an appropriate in to the conversation, Jane made her presence known and introduced herself to the conversing girls.

"Hi there, I'm Jane, but you can call me Trojan." Reaching a hand out to greet the ladies, Jane then turned to the fellow SDU operator. "I didn't know the SDU decided to send you out as well. I wasn't told that there was going to be more than one of us here. It's great that there's more of us here, though."

[+]-----------------------------------------------[+]

Thomas walked around the building, peering into the windows trying to catch a glimpse of what they were getting into. The building was seemed like a prisoner that wouldn’t give up its secrets, even through the windows there wasn’t much to be gathered. He could only assume what was to come – tight corridors, booby traps, bottle necks, a web of connected rooms and hallways, and maybe even an attic from which they’d be shot from. He was so deep in thought that it hadn’t occurred to him that they might not even be attacking the structure, they could be defending it.

Suddenly he felt a tap on his left shoulder which brought him back to reality, he turned to see a fully kitted out operator who was five inches taller than he was. The stranger spoke, "Good morning! Kirill, Latvia. But you should call me Pravda." He then shot out a hand from underneath, open palmed and with good intention. Thomas took his hand and shook it with a firm, friendly grip and replied with his own introduction, “I am Thomas De Rossario of the Philippines. They call me Armoury” His accent wasn't as rough as before, but a few quirks still showed. They both looked back at the structure when Kirill asked, ”Thoughts?” A loaded question that sent Thomas’ mind thinking of a string of answers. There were many things to address, many factors that might lead to the mission ending in failure.

He nodded twice and let out a deep sigh, ”There are many things to consider...” he eyed the building and glanced around the room. He noticed someone was approaching them, one of the personnel that the man yesterday had told them to acknowledge – Franklin. He turned to face him, Franklin stopped in front of them both and wiped his finger across the camo paint that was on Thomas’ face and examined it carefully before he scoffed, "Cam-cream?" when he said that, Thomas’ instantly knew what he was going to talk about, back when he was with the Scout Rangers they would always apply it in stripes across the face, it was how they would apply it even during deployments. When he got into the Light Reaction Regiment, he was taught different variations and applications, but every now and then he would still use those black streaks which is why he was given the callsign “stripes”. Franklin gave him a look, smiling and all the while berating him for his use of Cam-cream "Not a good first impression. I can understand if you think looking like a bootlegged Rambo makes you tactically superior, but if you're going to bother using precious cam-cream, at least do something proper with it. None of this Apocalypse Now shit."

When he heard his assumptions, he was at first confused, why would anyone apply cam-cream just for the sake of looking “cool”? Back in the Philippines, the Scout Rangers would do this instead of wearing balaclavas, the LRR did the same thing. However, as he gave it more thought, his eyes widened and he was caught dumbstruck – he had applied his cam-cream in a sloppy manner, it wasn’t done properly not to mention that they were in an urban scenario, a full black out pattern would have done better than simple diagonal stripes. This lack of attention was something that could’ve gotten him killed. Usually he wasn't this careless, could it have been the jet-lag? Could it have been him rushing to get to the training grounds early? Could it have been the pressure of making a good impression getting to him? Or perhaps it was a combination of all these factors? Whatever it was he certainly wasn't sure.

Franklin eyed him up and in a short glance at where they entered, he noticed there were more operators coming in, and without saying a word he turned around and walked away. This gave Thomas a peak at Franklin’s character, he could’ve made an example out of him, he expected harsher words, but instead he walked away before anyone else could be involved in the imbroglio. He glanced at the incoming operators and then around the room at the people who arrived early, and then he turned back to face Kirill and shrugged. ”Well, after that encounter, I guess I should give you my take on our current situation and what I think about it. No use crying over spilled milk.”

He then gestured around the room as the other operators arrived, ”Take a look at each interaction even the tiny ones and see what I see...” Thomas payed attention to how everyone dressed, how everyone talked, how everyone walked, even down to the tiny mannerisms that people make. He then continued, ”Notice how everyone is different, notice how no one is huddled up in one big group but in small disconnected groups… This is a problem, we do not know each other, we have no team cohesion...” he let his voice be loud enough to be heard but not too loud that it was obvious, ”Team cohesion is a priority for any successful team, if we cannot work together then everything falls apart. We all have different levels of communication, different cultures, different experiences, different backgrounds etcetera. If we cannot bridge the gaps quickly then this simulated mission will fail whatever it might be.”

The room was filled with many examples of this, Jaime and Aleks had awkward interactions, where Aleks is very quiet and reserved, Jaime is the complete opposite; where as Ella and Jane seem to have a kinship and have both interacted with Jaime at this moment which shows that they’re willing to interact with people; Franklin gets along well with people of similar cloth and people he’s worked with, but seems harsh against new people – this was especially evident when he came up to Thomas to bring up his sloppy Cam-Cream application and Thomas was sure there were other examples that were yet to be seen.

He then drew his attention back to the building with a small wave of a hand, ”Now back to the building...” As he spoke he pointed with his hand to four key locations, the door, the roof, the windows, and the wall, “These are four points that we can breach through, the door is obvious if we were to do it by the books, the windows are pretty good places to breach but it’s going to be slow, the roof is good – hit them from above, but it’s hard to access, and then there’s breaking the wall wide open create an entrance opportunity. All of them have advantages and I will have to point out that these are crucial if we are going to be on the defending side as these are things we will have to consider and even then we don’t know the building’s layout...” He paused for a second and examined the south wing structure, ”If I were an insurgent, the south wing would be easy to attack in hindsight..” he gave more stress the word “hindsight” “because I would know the layout of this base. If I didn’t have the layout of this base then it would be difficult. Attacking the building before us is the same principle, if we know its layout it will be easy to assail and defend. Information gathering will be key to our success or failure.”

He stepped away for a second to grab a file from his ruck – it was the file that Rainbow had given him to catch him up on current situations. He flipped through the pages and opened it on a particular page, ”Look here, the description of the enemy at Bellagio hotel. Their gear, their usual tactics, etcetera...” He handed the file to Kirill, knowing that he too had the same file, ”I’m sure you’ve read this, but knowing that this is Rainbow’s threat makes me sure that whether we are defending or attacking the enemy is going to use similar tactics and similar gear. We will have to account for that if that is the case.” He paused for a moment and asked Kirill, ”What about you, any thoughts? Anything to add that I might have missed?” He smirked as he tacked on something on top of his question, ”Even if it’s about the Cam-cream feel free..." he lightheartedly joked about his own mistake and continued, "It’s better to get to know each other now rather than later." Thomas took his mistake rather well, he knew he was only human but that didn't stop him from getting better. He was the embodiment of the saying, "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger."

_@Sifter

---

Kirill felt pleased with Thomas's secure grip – a sign of a strong man. Thomas from the Philippines, he said. Kirill wasn't surprised in the least, afterall, the White Masks were a borderless problem, so they would require an international solution.

He started answering Kirill’s open-ended question. “There are many things to consider...” With his full attention on the Filipino, Kirill hadn't noticed the man who had approached them, or more precisely, Thomas specifically. It was the veteran Rainbow operator Franklin Edwards, also known as Sonar, one of the operators Thatcher told them to pay special attention to. Without holding back, he ran two fingers across Thomas's face, scooping up some of the cam-cream he had applied and light-heartedly scolded him for using it. Kirill raised an eyebrow. While it was light-hearted and was aimed at Thomas, it felt like Kirill was the one who was offended. "Precious cam-cream? I could get a tube for less than 3 euros. Looks like someone doesn't know the meaning of words like deficit item or toilet paper shortages." he thought. Why toilet paper? Even Kirill didn't know, maybe something to do with his days the army.

Post-Soviet mentality aside, Kirill didn't like seeing Thomas's personal space getting invaded so easily, rather hypocritical of someone like him, he knew. Besides, they weren't rookie privates who had to follow the uniform guideline to the letter. They were operators who had the freedom to choose whatever they wanted to use if it would help them and there was a good reason for that freedom. Seemingly to spare Thomas from further embarrassment in front of the operators who were arriving, Franklin left them to just be approached by Jessica, another veteran member, who asked him if they would be using M16's for today. He acknowledged that. “Well, there goes the idea of using the Maschinenpistole” Kirill had no problem with using other weapons, but he didn't see the M16 system as the best CQB choice there was. This encounter also gave Kirill a first impression of Franklin. In his eyes, he was a clear image of what a leader should be. He wouldn’t be surprised to see him as a squad leader.

Thomas was left a little bit bewildered, but just shrugged it off. "No crying over spilled milk." he said. Kirill didn't take it as sign of weakness, but as a sign of strong will.

Thomas first pointed their attention towards the interactions of every operator in the room, mentioning their many differences and expressing doubts of their ability to work in a cohesive group. Then, with a wave of his hand, he redirected their attention towards the building and talked about it's possible entry and breaching points and their importance. As a breacher himself, Kirill couldn't find him agreeing with Thomas more. Also knowing the layout of the building and other info would be critical. Thomas then proceeded to give Kirill the Rainbow report that he had already acquainted himself with back when he met Six. Thomas reminded him of what danger the White Masks would be. They were similar, yet, much unlike the Taliban and the mafia that Kirill found himself combating earlier. He would probably find himself dusting off his old knowledge and experience from Afghanistan to combat them, no matter how much he wanted to bury it.

”What about you, any thoughts? Anything to add that I might have missed?” a smirk found itself on Thomas's face "Even if it’s about the Cam-cream feel free..."

Kirill smiled back to Thomas as he used his index finger to pull up a portion of his balaclava from his neck, revealing it's white skull. This balaclava was a gift from his comrades at Aitvaras back in Afghanistan. After pulling the portion back down into its former position, Kirill began talking: "You just mentioned everything we can gather about the building for now. We will have to know the objective and get more information before we could proceed doing any further planning."

"We'll probably be briefed about the layout of the structure, if not then we should be given time for recon. If even that won't be the case and we'll have to go in blind, which I wouldn't like, I think everyone here has a trick up their sleeve to help the team. That’s why we're all here in Rainbow. Under the correct circumstances and if we know everything we need, we should be able to clear this construction in less than three minutes. That would be my estimate."

"You're also right about everyone here being different. For example, a law enforcement officer and a soldier is trained to use different tactics and has a different mentality. Not mentioning the many cultural and religious differences that affects how everyone here works.” Kirill paused for a moment, lost in thought. “Naturally, every person also has a different personality. So I have to say that you shouldn’t expect us to work like clockwork during this mission. But hey, that's the point of these exercises. They are not here to improve our brute strength or our shooting precision, they are around 70 percent based on testing and improving how well can we use our heads and be able to work in a team during high-stress situations. Especially if the team is made up with operators from different backgrounds like ours is."

"We'll make it. I have no doubts about that. But the question is can we do it without sustaining any casualties?" He handed the report back to Thomas. "Because I also think that after Bellagio, Rainbow will definitely cook up some catch for us right here."

After sighting for a bit, Kirill said: "You said that we have to get to know each other right now, right? How about we start with the old guard to break the ice. Thatcher said that we should pay attention to everything they say." While he said that, Kirill began moving backwards, swiftly turning around and moving towards Vue and Sonar who were walking further away from Kirill and Thomas.

"Jessica and Franklin, correct? I am Kirill Gusakov from Latvia's Criminal Police. Pleased to meet you and be in your care." Just like with Thomas, Kirill invited them to a handshake with his right hand, starting with Jessica.

@Liotrent@Lady Selune@LetMeDoStuff

@Oskar DiLondra@Bee
Jamie Underwood

---

Jamie did a double take at the approaching woman, who introduced herself as Ella, or Songbird. That was when Jamie read the room a little better, and discovered that apparently there was no need for solemn stances at attention. Her face brightened from the proper stare she had before, she smiled wide and toothy and turmed somewhat towards her. Casually, Jamie did not turn her body so their shoulders were parallel, something she reserved for her superiors and for serious discussion.

"Well, hi there, Ella, I'm Jamie." She extended out a hand for a handshake, remembering Aleksander and his leaving her hanging.

"My, uh, operator alias is Slug." She said, shrugging good naturedly. At the mention of her armor, Jamie glanced down at the simple kevlar vest over her chest and pads at various parts of her body, semi-effective but a far cry from some of the walking tanks that would be accompanying them.

"Yeah, I like to travel light." Jamie glanced over Ella's shoulder, making eye contact with another woman who seemed to want to make conversation.

"Hey-o," she greeted cheerily, "I'm Jamie." Jamie accepted the hand shake and stood back as Trojan began to associate with Ella, who was from the same agency as her.

Jamie thought it was a little curious that Jane wanted to be called by her alias. As Ella responded to the other SDU operative, Jamie turned her head around and listened to some of the boys talking about the training operation and cultural diffusion and cam-cream (?) and other shit like that. One of them was extra sure to loudly promote team cohesion. She also saw Aleks, stoic as ever, not engaging in any conversation. So much for team cohesion. Strange as it was, Jamie felt like it was personal challenge to try and crack the shell of Aleksander, the handsome, strong, silent greek warrior. Suppressing a chuckle at her inner melo-dramatism, Jamie turned back around and tuned back into the conversation with her new allies, and hopefully, new friends.

---

Ella was mildly chuckling at the thought of addressing someone as 'Slug' in the field when a familiar voice came from behind her. She turned around slightly and saw Jane standing there, a moment of familiarity in this strange new world that she had become a part of.

"It's great to see you too Jane, or would you prefer Trojan?" Her smile continued.

"It's nice to know you're on the field, I look forward to working more closely with you," and as she turned back to Jaime, she noticed her peering around the room, evidently taking in all the chatter that was happening around them. She noticed her eyes settle on rather hulking man off in the distance. As Jaime turned back to the two SDU Operators, Ella gestured to the operator.

"Who's he? Anyone of particular interest? Not that I'm being nosy or anything, it would just be beneficial to know a bit about our allies before we work together in the field." She scratched the back of her head and also peered around the room, it would be interesting to see how their first operation would turn out, even if it was just training. She suspected each of them had their own skills and gadgets to display, and wondered how the rest of the team would utilise her skills and Songbirds, as they were best used if the team was cohesive.

@Bee @Zoey White

---

Spectre rolled up slightly late to the party it seemed, he'd been on a call with his daughter back in the states trying to find out how she was doing... Making sure she was doing okay in school and what not, being a parent usually a thousand miles away made things difficult for him to say the least. He'd cleaned up and gotten ready, mostly civilian clothes with armor and pouches mixed in didn't have a uniform and Rainbow didn't seem to have a mandatory dress code, he was pretty sure he'd seen some person with pink tennis shoes on rather than boots. Spectre hummed to himself as finished getting his gear together and pulled on his mask and sunglasses after that his hood and scarf. Made him hard ID and more importantly broke up the human outline when he was laying down lining up a shot. Finally, he picked up his crosscomm placing it in his left ear.

With that settled he headed straight out to join the others, he didn't want to be late but... Well no matter how much revenge he was trying to be a good parent too. Tugged slight on the patch on his shoulder, it had been added to the clothing he'd sent over it wasn't much... Wouldn't mean anything to the people here really, no one knew what exactly Ghost Recon meant... Hell, battalions in the army only supported three companies so anyone who knew anything probably have a question or two he'd have to duck either way it was high time to start the meet and greet, he'd feel better if he had a rifle... Fiddling with the scope made him feel better not to mention he was used to maintaining his own gear on ops having actual resources and training time.

He stopped looking at the others, then to the weapons it looked like they would be running a course, rather than target shooting or performing combat games. He preferred simulated combat personally, more dangerous and more realistic of course if they were running this course individually that would be rather annoying Ghost's were flexible but it meant very rarely were they, masters of anything, Spectre was a sniper, a comms tech, but a point man? Usually, he had someone else for that not that he couldn't do the job.

He saw the others milling around and figured it was a good time to say hello, he tapped on his cross comm helped project his voice better from behind the mask. He spotted one of FBI operators and... Hong Kon SDU he remembered. You got good at spotting special forces when you could up against any of them.

"Uh... Hi, I'm Spectre... Sorry, Daniel. More used to the callsign than a name." The sniper added as stepped towards Jamie and Ella. "Hopefully didn't miss anything too important, I had to make a call and it ran long." Unsure if he wanted to talk about his daughter to the people here... He never knew when he might end up working against one of the nations here... Another annoying part of being a Ghost was being really picky about your friends. His voice came out crisp and clear even from behind the mask, cross comm did a good job of that.

"Anyway, I'm a sniper and comms specialist if you are curious. US Army Special Forces, I'm also an engineer. Of course this was only slight truth, they just needed to know who he was and that he could be trusted and with the that hulk of a Russian that haul that relic of a gun around like it was nothing he really didn't want to mention he was part of a group that regularly conducted illegal deniable ops on other sovereign nations. Better to be the awkward slight less interesting guy, better odds of not being punched in the face.

@Oskar DiLondra @Zoey White

---

Franklin was lost in Jess' words once more before he eventually came to, seeing that another male figure had approached. Latvian, as the flag and description he gave suggested, the body stated that he was from the police department. It brought a few conversational topics in Frank's mind as he was driven out of the trance he had in Jessica only moments before. Police were a vital figurehead in the suppression of terrorist outbreaks worldwide. Rainbow acted as, to some degree, an Interpol governing and pursuing these threats when they reached critical standards. However, Franklin was sceptical about using policemen on the force. Yes, they were more lenient on attacking and shutting down terrorist organisations, but this was no longer a state of small emergency. The White Masks were now waging a full-scale war with the rest of the world and were proudly showing this. To have Rainbow consist of the special forces of each military branches really showed how incredibly serious they were as a threat. Franklin himself had no pessimism about the superiority of this Latvian Policemen, but sometimes he wondered on whether or not he was living in the right pack.

A few more bodies started to come over before Franklin turned away, hearing the heavy footsteps of a superior figurehead walking inside. The clanking and grinding sound of metal components scraping against one another was audible throughout the entire hallway they stood within. A few coughs from a raspy, dry throat boomed its way throughout the cracks and crevices of their training facility before the man, who held quite a noble manner, presented himself to them all. Franklin called everyone to attention almost immediately, giving him the respect he deserved. And so, with no helmet to cover up his words, he spoke clearly and aggressively to the batch of new recruits.

"Welcome, new-blood. You already know my name, and you should already know my story. If you don't, then don't bother finding it out." As always, Alexandr Senaviev presented himself in such a way that could shout down a mountain. Toughened by years of experience and envisioned horrors that no man could ever be subjected to, Alexandr was a true machine worth of steel and more. It appeared he was the adviser for today's training session, which could only mean one thing: an unorthodox doctrine was to be placed for the day. "Plans have changed for today. You no longer will be taking part in a join training session on this morning. I overruled and oversee this decision. Today is a day where you, new-blood, show us what you have to offer and what your new equipment can do."

Anyone who had been present during the Bellagio Downfall in Rainbow were more than familiar with the Lord's intentions. Alexandr had been pushing for this for weeks, even months, to get his ideal Spetsnaz training into action. Lone wolves were always looked down upon in Rainbow's work ethos, but that wasn't the intention of what he had to offer.

"I realise that you all should be able to work in squads easily, something that any man or woman of service should have innately stuck into their mind. But, most of the new-bloods are dependent on teams and are yet to hold their own. After Vegas, we saw those who could not fend for themselves against large waves partake in the stress. Therefore, one by one, you will all enter the killhouse, locate a fake biohazard container and plant a fake defuser. No questions asked. You will all be tested on your equipment and will have to trust each weapon you have. Rubber bullet armaments are permitted, nothing else. Ex-Military, trainers in Rainbow and other trained staff will be deployed to test your mettle. We do not expect you to `survive`, but we can at least see who has potential."

Of course! It was a classic engagement, taking the biohazard containers and attempting to defuse them. This was the White Masks' previous key mode of attack. From Bartlett University to other business towers, this used to be the main assault tactic they had to offer. Since then, times had changed and their tactics grew even more complex, but at least it was useful to familiarise them with the basics of their methods. And so, one by one, these soldiers and others would be tested. One by one. Going inside to clear out and achiev4e a near-impossible objective. If it were a live-fire exercise, it would be unlikely for anyone to survive. Only the strongest could prevail, and no one was anywhere near the strongest.

[+]-----------------------------------------------[+]

Thomas watched as Rob went in to do the seemingly impossible mission and come out doing moderately well. The stage after Rob’s run was repaired and ready to take in another willing volunteer. Thomas wanted a shot at the gauntlet. As he stepped up, he grabbed the majority of the ammo and grenades off the table and left more than enough for the rest of the people waiting. For some it would’ve been excessive, but for someone from the Philippines who had encountered combat on nearly every deployment, it was a god send to have so much ammo.

He took a deep breath, cleared his mind, and it was almost as if a switch flicked in his brain. Each item on the table was arranged to his liking, he started to methodically pack his gear and ready himself – even going as far as applying the cam cream properly on his face as if he was back in the Philippines. He picked up the M16A3 and began to inspect it, making sure that everything was working smoothly, pulling the bolt back and making sure that the firing pin activated each time he squeezed the trigger. He was more than ready now. He had an insane amount of munitions carried in his pack, from sting grenades meant to mimic frag-grenades to extra ammo for both his side arm and his main weapon.

He palmed the drone in his hand and looked it over, he then took a knee and set it down at his feet. Thomas knew this was for gathering information, so he set objectives for himself. He wanted to find the best breaching points, the best defensive locations, the best offensive locations, the best concealment locations, and the main objective of this exercise. He knew he wasn’t going to win, but he knew he could at least do as much damage as he can without jeopardizing the objective. As Thomas tried to move the drone, he took a minute to get the controls down, after which he started scouting the building. He piloted the small drone around the building, looking for a vent, or a crack, or an opening – something to get inside and find more information; he tried getting it into the same vent Rob’s drone went through and it got shot at, and was luckily not taken out. The enemy now knew that he was coming, however, they did not know what Thomas had in-store.

Thomas piloted the drone back and took out a rubber knife he used in training once in the Philippines, some paracord from his bag, and tied the drone to the knife. He then crept towards the building and started probing the windows with the camera on the drone, he didn’t find the biohazard containers at any of the windows near the walls, so he assumed it was somewhere in the middle of the building. He brought with him two additional charges to the one he’s supposed to use in breaching. He planted ammo and additional munitions nearby the exits as insurance in-case he had to beat a hasty retreat. He prepped the first breaching charge at the kitchen where he knew there were people, he set an additional distraction charge at the bed room to help illuminate it later. He pressed the detonator switch for his distraction breach, then waited a good five seconds before setting off his main breach at the kitchen.

The charges went off without a hitch, he cooked a sting grenade in his hand and threw it in two seconds prior to detonating, then threw in a flash bang for good measure. He stepped away from the wall he took cover behind, and strafed around the opening to make sure it was clear. He noticed that all the original defenders were now marking themselves as downed enemy combatants. As a soldier, he made sure that each of them was dead with shots towards their chest, and moved towards the closest cover, he couldn’t cover three doors so he popped smoke, and let it build then ran into the room towards the right of the kitchen counter. He moved through cautiously, silently shutting the door behind him. He examined the hallway and thought of exits almost immediately.

There were three doors, one towards the far left, one towards the bedroom, and one towards the outside. He hugged the left wall as he checked the right making sure no one went out and around to try and out flank him. Suddenly a shadow appears towards the now brightly lit, open bedroom, he moved quickly squeezing out shots towards the silhouette and smashed through the sliding door towards his right. He grabbed a sting grenade and threw it into hallway, the following explosion sends several small pieces of rubber flying everywhere, he grabbed some of the shattered glass and started laying it down behind him so that if anyone followed him, the glass would crack and tell him to grab cover.

As he made his way over to his second breach, he made sure to peer around with his drone – still stuck on his rubber knife, he placed the pad on his lap and veered through his cam, he drew his pistol with his right hand, the camera with his left and kept his ears open. He heard the glass crackle to his right as he had his back to the wall and started to squeeze shots in that direction. He turned and dove into his second breach very barely being able to dodge the shots flying at him. The objective had to be somewhere here. He holstered his pistol and readied his M16A3, two men in the hallway were and the door were hit, he shot them again to make sure, then checked the hallway and windows for the previous contact. He too was down, he shot him again to make sure. Playing dead was a viable tactic, and it was used often. Thomas made his way to the right side of the room where the bed should be and opened the door slowly, he saw no contacts, but he did see a biohazard container, his objective towards the far left corner, he kept his gun up at all times but no one was guarding the container, there was a blind spot towards the left where a corner was but he had no idea if it was occupied.

He took some of the smoke grenades in his pack and began screening the entrances, he thought it was too easy, and he knew it. He backed off and out of the bedroom, only to see people moving in from the outside to try and surround him, he threw two more sting grenades outside, sending some of his assailants diving through the windows and into cover some were too slow and were left outside being hit by the blast and rubber shrapnel. He slid towards the container to start the defuse, he remembered where it was and was lying prone, hoping he wouldn’t be discovered, but just before he was able to defuse the objective, a random spray of bullets started flying into the room sending rubber whizzing and bouncing everywhere while a grenade rolls up next to him, just a few seconds away from the defuse. When the grenade popped, it was over, just a little longer and the objective would’ve been achieved. He was disappointed and on top of that had ringing ears and he was hit with multiple rubber fragments all over his right side. His face remained unmarked.

He stood up and looked around the clearing smoke, and found several opfor around him in each entrance, one was playing with the pin of the grenade that took him out. He spoke through the mask somewhat muffled, “Nice try, you got close, but I’m willing to bet that the guys we fight are willing to blow you, their bio weapon, and themselves up all with one pull of a pin. A nice try isn’t good enough, you can do better new-blood. Try again next session if you make it that far.” Thomas couldn’t place the accent, but he didn’t need to, he didn’t know who this was but he did know that he failed. He walked out of the building and collected the ammo he had previously rationed and plopped them back at the table the way he found it and whispered to himself, ”In the end I didn’t need it." he took the words of the trainer to heart, he failed fair and square, there was no doubt about it. He had forgotten that one crucial thing, extremists are called extremists because they’re willing to go to the extreme, they didn't know he was in that room, they just threw the grenade and hoped he was there, and even if he wasn't, knowing that the container was hit would've probably ended the exercise anyway due to the possible volatile nature of these weapons packages. In that regard the extremist even though they risk death doing something like what the trainers did here in training, still win, their objectives are still achieved whatever that may be. He wanted to train harder in order to prevent the same thing happening in real combat operation, his life wouldn't be the only thing at stake at that point. He stepped back and waited for the next operator to have a jab at it, he wanted to see if anyone could go the distance and beat this near impossible exercise.

Watching her fellow operators had definitely instilled some intimidation into Jane's heart. These were supposed to be the best operators nations all over the world had to offer, but none of them so far had been able to complete the exercise. Jane, however, had mustered up the courage to be the next one to go. After the Filipino operator had returned from his run, the stage was reset and ready for Jane's attempt. Walking up, Jane grabbed a sufficient amount of ammunition and supplies. The M16A3 hadn't been a weapon that she was too familiar with. The SDU operator would've rather preferred to use her MP5 instead, but then again, beggars couldn't be choosers.

Loading the magazine into her M16A3, Jane pulled the charging handle back to chamber a round. Pulling the charging handle slighty back once again, the bolt revealed that a round was in fact, chambered. Perfect. Jane then hit the forward assist plunger on the rifle, readying herself for the challenge up ahead. She knew she wasn't going to pass, but damn it she was not going to go down without a fight. Jane wouldn't allow herself to go down like that.

As soon as she was given the go-code, Jane ran up to a nearby wall. She parked herself against it, before deploying a drone and letting it roll toward the house up ahead. She decided to keep a distance away from the house while she was conducting recon. Based on her experiences in Hong Kong, plenty of tangoes liked to peek out and interrupt the reconnaissance process during an operation. As a result, it had been instilled onto the entire unit that recon should be conducted from a safe position. There wasn't much safer than the wall she had been pressed up against. Watching through her phone, an image of the inside of the house had appeared on her screen.

Rolling through what appeared to be a ventilation hole, she discovered that she was in a bedroom of sorts. Two tangoes were in the bedroom. They had failed to spot the drone rolling around, which allowed Jane to continue gathering as much intelligence as she could. Doing a giant loop around the house, she soon developed her own gameplan to tackle the clearing of this objective. Currently, the "bomb" appeared to be located right in the middle of the living room. That played a huge part into developing her plan. After spending a few minutes on recon, she had counted approximately fifteen tangoes. There were most likely more, so Jane was definitely going to be accounting for that as well.

Her gameplan had consisted of a spiral path throughout the house. She was going to come in one end and gradually clear each room until she got to the living room. If everything went right, she would be ending up in the living room at the very end of it all. Once she was satisfied with the information that she had gathered, Jane had put her phone away and had taken actual action. Employing a magwell grip, Jane had stepped up the left side of the house. She was sure to maintain a low profile, as there could be someone watching Jane move to her deployment point.

Stepping up to the leftmost window, Jane had opted for a breaching charge + fragmentation grenade combo. The shock of the breach and the fragmentation grenade was sure to take care of the tangoes in the room. Planting the charge, Jane then moved back a bit away from the charge. Even though this wasn't live fire, Jane still didn't want to risk anything. Nothing would be worse than injuring herself on a menial exercise like this.

Having her fragmentation grenade in the other hand, Jane counted down mentally. 3... 2... 1... and breach! The window collapsed as the breaching charge deployed, and a fragmentation grenade was immediately tossed inside. Readying her weapon, Jane then waited for the grenade to explode. Boom. Rubber pellets were spread everywhere, some even coming back out through the window. Once she was sure the explosion was done, Jane had made entry into the house. Stepping inside, she saw two neutralized tangoes on the ground. At least, that's what they looked like. Everyone knew that assailants had been getting smarter over time. It was better to be safe than sorry. Pulling out her pistol, she fired a shot into both of the tangoes' chest.

Reholstering her pistol, Jane then switched back to her M16A3 as she headed to the main hallway. The sudden noise of the breach had definitely caused a stir within the house. The tangoes were definitely relocating and moving position now. Wanting to waste no further time, Jane opened the door and entered the hallway. There she encountered three tangoes in the process of relocating to the objective. She saw them before they could see her, which gave her just enough of an advantage to neutralize them all. Within the blink of an eye, Jane had fired six shots, two for each target. Watching them drop, Jane then fired an extra three shots to ENSURE that they were down.

Wanting to progress further, Jane then moved with a brisk pace to the kitchen. This was one of the most difficult areas to clear. It was so wide and the angle from which Jane was coming in had made it incredibly hard to maintain a clear line of sight. Stacking up outside the door, Jane had opted to flash and clear. Readying her flashbang, Jane pulled the pin before opening the door and chucking it inside. Quickly looking away, the flashbang had deployed and Jane was quick to go inside. Clearing the funnel of death, Jane again fired quick shots in succession, all of which hit their targets. Once the dust had settled, Jane had remembered that there was an office directly next to the kitchen. Glancing, she had noticed the door was open. This created an interesting scenario for her. She had to go up against the table in the middle to slice the pie, before actually going in and clearing it thoroughly.

Putting her back against the table, she leaned to the left, trying to see whatever she could from her angle. It looked clear to her so far. Stacking up against the doorway, Jane then moved in to check if it was clear, which it was. Stepping back out, it was now time to get to the hallway and bathroom. Breaching into the hallway, Jane couldn't spot any tangoes. Of course, it didn't mean the entire hallway was clear. Pressing up against the wall, Jane could hear faint footsteps nearby. Upon further observation, it turned out to be right around the corner. Letting her M16 hang, she opted for her pistol instead, as it was a much more suited tool for the job.

Creeping up to the corner, Jane held her pistol up close and at an angle. She could hear the footsteps get louder and louder. Jane really didn't want to utilize her hand to hand combat techniques, so she quickly turned the corner and fired a couple of shots. The tango, of course, dropped like a bag of bricks. Sighing, Jane then turned around to clear the bathroom. She had to be quick with this one. Someone was definitely going to hear Jane's gunshots by now.

Stepping into the bathroom had revealed something entirely different, though. There was nobody inside, which was odd considering bathrooms were a very popular place to hide. Now came the main entrance. It was a big, open space, but the door was positioned so that she was going to be exposed as soon as she entered. Right on cue, as she made her entrance, she was immediately hit in the chest a couple of times by a rubber bullet. They weren't real, but damn did they hurt like hell. The impact was strong enough to drive Jane back. Cursing herself, she was met by a masked operator. "Did you not see the giant window in the office? Everyone and their mum could see ya! By the time you made your way back, everyone knew where exactly you were going! Better luck next time, if there's one." Jane groaned and stood up. Defeated, she made the long walk of shame out the front door.

Jane didn't really pay attention to the rest of the operatives who were looking at her. Honestly, she didn't care about what the other operators thought. She just wanted to see where she went wrong, and see where she could improve from there. Plopping down in a seat, Jane then watched the next operator go. Hopefully they had been observant enough to do better, not too much better.

---

Spectre raised an eyebrow a solo clear of a house against numerous hostiles, the difference for him was the fact he couldn't depend on his usual tricks. Rubber rounds and lack of being able to stick a knife in someone was annoying, to say the least, his CQC was fine but they didn't really teach you restraint as a Ghost so he wasn't sure he wanted to be beating on targets. Of course, to him, it just meant getting more creative with how he was going to take the building he'd show them what why he was Spectre. He smiled at the big Russian man behind his mask, pulling off the sunglasses he checked over the weapon with practiced speed. "Aut viam inveniam aut faciam." He looked at the mountain of a man before him. "I shall either find a way or make one." He gave the translation from Latin, he waved as he moved to exam the building and plan his assault.

He watched the others before him... So loud and fast, that wasn't his style at all it was getting results however so credit to them. Standing up from his seat he smiled grabbing his drone. "Right... My go it is." He answered as he moved to began the assault.

The Ghost placed his breaching charging on the far window of the dining room, eight signatures inside on the thermals his drone held position hover well placed above the building. "Well, well it's a party ain't it?" He muttered into his comm as he kept the drone in place watching how they moved. "Right... Now." He added before blowing the breaching charge making everyone alert to that location, the guard by the front door moved to check the next room so with practiced silence Spectre pried up a board and rolled up the barricaded doorway. Keeping an eye on his camera as he moved through the door into the bathroom laying down in the tub having just barely missed the now alert patrols.

Watching as the patrols now swept the building he watched one approached the bathroom he shifted only slightly the curtain hid his position and the darkness of the room he couldn't be seen when the trainer entered to finish his sweep Spectre pounced with practiced grace he grabbed him and pulled him close to 'choke' him out. Grab his rifle before it fell, a backup weapon as he laid the 'body' down knowing he had about a thirty seconds now he used the moment to go into the kitchen where the bio-hazard was. He laid down the defuser spare rifle beside it and then flipped over the kitchen table for cover as the blaring noise began, the silence was gone, but he'd turned defenders into attackers, changed the game to give himself a chance.

They came quickly but it didn't matter. He popped up over the top the first time from cover firing as the three that advanced down the long hall until his clip empty tossing that rifle aside as two more burst in from the hallway near the bathroom, he leaned firing back forcing them to seek cover in the doorway. Yet two emerged from the long hall they were making headway moving from cover to cover as they traded shots he hadn't bought enough time yet.

So he rolled towards to take cover behind the kitchen counter letting off small bursts near the targets no more kills, grazes as best until he was forced to reload as he did it he set the rifle auto and swung out from cover firing at the two closet to the charge before being struck by a dozen rubber rounds. He wasn't sure if the timer had ticked down far enough, he heard one person grunt and then complain. "Four wounded and four dead. Not bad." Spectre slowly got up from death smiling. "The goal was always to defuse the biohazard, living through was just a luxury." He added with a shrug, GST smiled. "Granted if could shoot you all through walls with a silencer be a very different story." He groaned and walked back towards the others, they nevered told if the defuser would have gone off in time, didn't matter to him personally it was a losing situation he'd tried to make the best of it.

---

Ella greeted the newcomer and was about to inquire further into his specialities, before the man who sounded like a Soviet propaganda poster wrapped in ten tonnes of metal appeared. After his speech on the coming trial, Ella was nervous. Solo operations? Ella was extremely used to working in a team, but, she suspected, that this only proved his point more. In addition, Ella was mainly deployed when something needed to be kept from others, not taken, or in this case, defused. Ella, however, would have to work with what she had and think on the spot. If she couldn't manage that, she didn't belong on Team Rainbow.

She tried not to let her nervousness show as the other operatives completed, or rather, tried to complete, the trial. After Spectre, or Daniels, whichever, he preferred, had completed it, she had managed to build up the courage to take her spot.

She looked at the gear they had been given, pretty standard stuff, the M16A3 wasn't as much of an issue to her as it seemed to be too many other operatives, her past both in the SDU and before it had seen her using a variety of weapons, so there was no issue there. Before entering, she tested the reconnaissance drone they had been provided with. It was much too loud, a pensioner with their hearing half gone could have heard it! But, there was one interesting feature, the jump. The jump seemed to use some form of a spring mechanism, which gave her an idea.

She removed her personal satchel of gear, aware of the stares she was receiving due to taking so much time to actually start the trial, and took out one of her Eavesdropper pads and managed to, with some difficulty, attach the pad to the bottom of the spring. Feeling the glare of a Russian tank on the back of her neck, Ella decided not to test it, but just to either have it work or have it not work.

She walked up to the main entrance and crouched down against the wall as she gently placed the drone down, not sure of how much force it could take. She drove it in slowly, wincing at the copious amounts of noise it made. This was much too obvious, but for now, it was all she had, so she would make do with what she had been given.

Intel was one of the most important things before engaging in an operation, so she made sure to scout out every single room, quickly, but gaining enough information to satisfy her. The objective was in an office space, two doors and a large window the possible entry points. Hostiles were scattered all over, apart from the actual objective, instead vying to catch her out in the adjacent rooms. Still, she decided to attempt what she had planned, and the drone jumped onto a counter in the kitchen, the adhesive of the Eavesdropper sticking to the floor, it had worked!

The noise of the drone jumping, however, had drawn attention from the three hostiles in the room, and one of them called out "Drone!" and opened fire, which was just what she had wanted. For while they had shot the drone and that useful tool was gone, they hadn't noticed the microphone that was recording every sound they made. Her software had already isolated the fire and the callout, just a shame she hadn't recorded a more useful phrase.

Quickly wanting to get a move on, she circled the entire building, placing two Songbirds at every single possible entry point, two on either corner of the window. She had noticed that there were no hostiles in the corridor around from the bathroom, and only one in the bathroom itself, so she decided to use that as her way in, and it was the only entrance she didn't place any songbirds in.

She scrolled through the list of pre-recorded sounds that she had stored on her system and found the one she wanted, wood breaking. As she swung the butt of her rifle into the wooden barricade, she set off all of her songbirds at once, and the sound of barricades falling echoed through the entire building, followed shortly by shouts and gunfire. Amidst all the confusion, she entered the building, just as the hostile exited the bathroom, she dropped him with a short burst to the head, but by now the other gunfire had died down, so she'd have to be careful when she chose to shot, as currently, they were unaware of her position.

She crept to the corner and peeked around it, just in time to see one of the hostiles confusedly testing the wood panels of the barricade. Using this to her advantage, she slid up to the door, quickly dispatched him with a shot to the chest, then swung around to face the other three combatants she had droned out before, a shot in the chest for each. After they all appeared down, she gave them an extra shot each, to be sure.

After she had for definite cleared out the room, she noticed footsteps behind her, coming from the main lobby. She hid herself behind the doorframe and quickly scrolled through the list of her songbirds, and as he came around the corner, she let off the sound of gunfire from the main door, causing him to flinch, and allowing her to easily take him down with two shots to the chest and one to the head.

Now, footsteps were all around her, she had been much too loud, and stayed in the same position for too long, they had coordinated themselves to rush in and charge her, as terrorists would have no care for their own lives, as long as the cause they believed in was achieved. The first enemy to come in through the door was taken care of easily, but she didn't want to sit there like a big shiny target, so she made a sprint for the office, and was just slamming the door shut when she felt a sharp pain in her back, and her breath kicked out of her.

She turned around, and there was one of the 'terrorists' waving at her from the other end of the killhouse, through three open doorways.

"You need to be careful of your surroundings rookie! Nice strategy at the start, but you cannot, whatever happens, let yourself be so preoccupied, it'll get you and many other good men and women killed. Be more careful next time, or there won't be one." She shook her head and waved back to the man, taking his advice and criticism to heart. She got too into it, enjoyed the thrill of a tactic that had worked, that she hadn't planned far ahead enough.

She left the killhouse as they began to patch it up, and couldn't manage to maintain eye contact with any of the other operatives, especially the Russian, she felt like she had wasted their time, and that wasn't good enough.

---

More and more people were going in, harshly. One by one they were all being monitored by those who were yet to await their turn from computers in the corner of the warehouse. Sat upon some desks that were not in use for the kill-house, they kept a grim, grey and dismal colour tone to their projection. Their sound was minimal and definitely overshadowed by the Goliath of noise coming from within their mock-up operation. Most of the time, they all watched in silence, a few individuals occasionally making a comment or two for the individual taking part. They all went according to volunteering, and first of all was Ghost. In all honesty, Frankie was somewhat lacking any strong impression of amazement, but he did pull his weight enough to bypass the expectations. Alexandr, of course, would not be impressed by the slightest, though he would be disappointed even if they had completed their exercise. Mark, who had found a way to mask himself as a terrorist, was easily noted as the one to take down the new operator. Franklin was more than sure that Olivier, Monika and Liu were all placing bets on who would eliminate each operator, who would conjure victory or who would fall flat onto their face in defeat. Stood high above the rest on a catwalk, their overhead position allowed for them to monitor all that occurred without disrupting the Lord's plans of training.

Franklin watched from the rear of the group. Several men and women of the new and old Rainbow roster were determined to chuckle and commentate to one another on their comrade's progress. When one would fail, the next would go in and see if they could prove their worth more than the last. However, every run was relatively the same but with a different ending. Each got caught in some frantic illusion that did not hold high hopes for the future. Yet at the same time some could argue that this was a short-notice operation without much functionality, but Franklin himself even knew that no operator was ever going to go through a textbook operation, especially with the White Masks violating the human rights commandments throughout the world. Eventually the mantle fell upon himself when Ella was knocked out fo the competition. Franklin noticed that all those who had entered thus far were the new-bloods to Rainbow, making him feel somewhat guilty. More to the point, he could not live with the thought of going last and having to create some sort of expectation for the lesser-experienced, but that in itself made for some determination. When Ella was outside, he stepped forward to greet her halfway.

"Must say, you had one of the best starts yet. Usually the greater the beginning the smoother the conclusion, but you did slip up with that thrill. I expect the lads inside told you that though. Good job, at least." He patted her on the shoulder and began to tighten up his head-gear. With a helmet standardised for Rainbow Operators atop of his balaclava and goggles, he was now ready to begin his own tactical insertion towards the battle at hand. Before he left Ella to her own devices, he stared at her in a strange manner and sighed to himself with deprecation towards himself: "Don't expect too much."

The first stage was clear, simple and calm. Scouting out the area from the outside was the best he could find. Someone had taken a vent already so the security may have been tightened in that area. It was strange knowing that the mock-up terrorists inside were not fluent in the building's design and were equally as challenged for maximum efficiency. However it was here that Franklin had one step ahead of them for. Unlike Songbird or Ghost, under the alias of Sonar Franklin had eyes everywhere. With the press of a button, a small gleaming emerald light emitted from the eyepiece and sprung to life. He sat by a wall, where a few windows of possible entry were awaiting scrutiny. With only a second to boot up, his prize possession and creation was now coming to show its wings. The talons of this mechanical creature stretched out and gave him the power of sight, using the complicated inner-workings of an Echelon's original blueprints to ping his limitations of vision through walls. Its accuracy was based off of the pinging sensation, so those who moved quick enough could attempt to confuse its user, but without the bar of suspicion raised, Franklin knew that their speed would be either slow or static.

Several pings into its function, Franklin remained very still in order to scan those around him. Only his head and body could twist in circles as moving forward too quickly would fuzz or distort his gear's ability. To allow him to twist enough Franklin had holstered his M16A3 rifle into a sling whilst only having his sidearm deployed for uncoordinated dangers that might spring from their traps. But a second or two more passed and he could finally take in all that there was from this first room.

On the left were two terrorists standing beside one another, most likely discussing plans or tactics. It was that or the two were enjoying a small spot of roleplaying, getting themselves into character to make the experience just that little bit more authentic for those entering. Either way, he didn't care too much about the details of their discussion and left his mind to account for any others. From the repulse of both physical objects and sound, the rest within his range were easily seen on opposite sides of walls and windows, out of view for the time being. It was hard to locate the biohazard container that he had been briefed upon as he did not fully know its appearance, meaning that if it was within range of the sonar pulse it would not be recognisable as a silhouette. But with that in mind, Franklin slowly holstered his sidearm and reached for the primary armament, slowly rising his head in line with the window, his goggles still turned on. Due to their activation, he kept his movement slow and raised his weapon to line up with the two. With a deep breath, he squeezed the trigger and began his own operation.

With the quick bursts of his trigger finger, the weapon was easy to adjust to as he had trained with it more than enough times. Preferring a controlled semi-automatic configuration, he conserved his ammunition to eject two or four rubber pellets into those stood beside, who let out a pained groan from their unexpected shot of pain. It would be here that most, if not all, operators would leap in and secure their room, but Franklin had ideas of his own. He could feel the eyes of the other operators judging his strange decision, especially considering none of them really had any idea what his gear was. But he remained put, allowing his goggles to take up their position and spy through the walls adjacent to the room he'd chosen to enter. And as expected, he could see the first few panicked respondents slowly approaching the doors. When the first knocked her way into the room, Franklin had been more than prepared to anticipate her move, opening a few more shots onto her. Instinctively, she fell onto the floor to respond to the collision of ammunition and allowed for him to monitor the situation further.

The plan he had used was somewhat devious and successful in its smartened way, but it could take an experienced combatant to understand that repeating what those who entered the room had done would be a great mistake. He could even see it through the walls, others running away or forming makeshift fortifications within ambush points. It was up to Franklin to make the next move.

Whilst he stood relatively still or moved at a snail's pace, he could see where they were hiding. But to climb through the window and quickly find cover was a reason for the goggles to be deactivated. Another flick of a button shut them down and regained his natural sight, allowing him to clamber inside and rush for cover. Now that the echo of the warehouse was behind him, the confined noise rebounded between each of the wooden walls. As his training within the RMC easily stated, his eyes and ears were always trailed onto the door, yet still were able to warn him of any traps, obstacles or risks surrounding his body. For a minute or two, he remained on his knee, waiting for something to happen, but the waiting game was only going to reduce his chances of success. Meaning he had to formulate a plan, Franklin took to his natural instincts and suppressed the door for a second before dashing to his right, manually breaching the second door. On the other side, a somewhat surprised Mark, still masked from earlier, was impacted with several rubber bullets before Franklin continued to press on. His heart raced and spun like nothing else. When he passed over Mark, he muttered to himself with a frantic grin beneath his facial gear:

"No hard feelings, you old bugger." Continuing his push, another armed guard emerged from cover, laying down suppressive fire to halt his advancement. It forced him to step aside into a small cupboard space, narrowly avoiding the first line of pellets that were due to hit him. It was here that his instincts kicked in further, allowing him to turn his rifle back the way he came and notice the fifth man preparing to fire upon him. And with a tight time limit between the two, Franklin shot first and dropped them before his life was doomed to fail. It raised his tension tenfold and forced him to almost pass out from the rush of blood to the head. But the panic and minor distortion of concentration had left part of his body exposed, allowing the previously stationary guard to push up and fire multiple painful rubber pellets into his side, causing him to fall onto the floor with a large yell. "Agh! Fuck, you bloody cunt!"

And just like that, it was all over. From when he had first set foot within the building, it must have been a minute or two before he was gunned down ruthlessly by his masked allies. Time had flown so quickly that it almost felt futile and worthless to even have Franklin attempt. It seriously began to downtrodden his self-esteem on the matter but he hid it well enough to regain his composure. There, Mark shook his hand and ushered him outside for the next combatant to enter.

When he emerged, there was a strange sight from those gathering around the desks. He felt a strange anxiety kick in from the new-bloods awaiting for him to say something. His mind and heart raced once more, seeing Jess, Ella and several others eye him down. In his own head, they were judging his performance and preparing to dismiss him as one of their own. Such thoughts caused for irrational reactions that were seemingly unprovoked.

"Someone else go now. I...I'm going to report to Six for something." And before he left the window of opportunity for someone to stop him, he saluted the training officer Alexandr and took off outside of the warehouse, escaping the kill-house once more. Hopefully the next few days in the downtime was going to play a better part...

_{@Oskar DiLondra}

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Daniel check his gear when he finished heading for the lounge still a little sore from body blocking the trainer's rubber rounds, so with a grunt, he found a couch and kicked back on it. Drawing out his phone to look through a few things Daniel decided to check in on his sister, texting her about how his daughter was doing with school. He knew he should be there walking her to class and such but... He couldn't, he had a duty and more importantly, he needed to make sure the world was safe for her to grow up in. The White Masks had shown any city, anywhere could be a target the way he saw it taking down Rainbow in Vegas was... Well, it was to add insult to injury to prove that were the real deal. It also told Daniel they knew Rainbow Six's past and meaning they probably had intel leaks somewhere... With so many nations involved and so much red tape and black ink, he had to wonder about it.

Maybe they had put a team of Ghosts on it or another unit was handling it, Rainbow certainly wasn't in a position they were going through pains rebuilding already. To Daniel it also spoke volumes that the rather than more FBI or Navy Seals they had sent a GST soldier... Probably because they didn't want more of the best and brightest to die. But these were just ponderings of a bored and paranoid soldier, pulling his mask down and his shades off he yawned and looked at around to see if anyone else had turned up in the lounge still surfing on his phone mostly looking over a testing report on invisbility suits. They had success cloaking objects, the US wanted to leap it forward it seemed, make an invisible soldier. He prayed the GST got the tech, it was a GST wet dream to have tech like that, he could only imagine how much fun could have.