[indent][b][color=#4682B4]Moss, Lukas[/color][/b]
[sub][b][color=#4682B4]Time:[/color][/b] 27 APR 25
[b][color=#4682B4]Location:[/color][/b] IVO Taniland Border, Africa[/sub]
[/indent]
Boarding an aircraft that was as old as this hadn’t been among Moss’s first choices of how to travel that particular day but, then again, he’d never really had ‘first choice’ upon thinking about it. The seat, and everything else in the DC-3, squealed and spoke and roared as they’d taken the flight, shifting and wheezing with every exertion, every breath of wind, every motion of the rudders and ailerons. Of course, they’d never take an aircraft that was absolutely going to fall apart on such a flight - Moss was relatively certain of that. It’d be ‘a real fukkin waste’ if they just fell out of the sky to their deaths instead of something interesting.

A smile had crept its way onto his face at the thought and image. It’d be a helluva way to go after so many interesting bits here and there, a real stupid way to go. The best anticlimax, that’d be what it was, and with his luck some little part of the man said that it fit. Life had a sense of humor, even if it was one of the worst senses the man had ever known. The smile slipped away, though, and he spent the rest of the flight in as little silence as there could be. The noise seemed to drown everything out.

Eyes flickered from one team-member to another to another. He'd read some files, had to look into some others on that grapevine. Winters, Kiwi SAS with a number of extra trainings here and there, he wondered if the temper bit had ever simmered down. It had been noted in a few of her periodic evaluations, interestingly enough. Valenzuela, Chilean special forces whose record seemed to cover all of South America, Moss had been curious to read no other combat deployments other than the anti-cartel work. Then again, that practically was a combat deployment. Kyoya, JGSDF Ranger who'd gone to Sudan…it took a special sort to be Japanese and want to deploy overseas. That normally wasn't the case. Khattak, Pashtun…all over the place, really. Airborne, though that meant a little less than most thought, Delta, CIA, she seemed to be all over the place. Moss could recall her name coming up in one or two of his own operations with The Activity. He had good expectations from her and the good boy seated comfortably with her. Park, South Korean who he remembered from the news those years back, another Somalia participant. The Israel portion of her recent activities had been sealed, annoyingly enough. It’d been curious. Jha, Marine who'd gotten blown up, Moss was impressed she'd actually come back after only a year. They were all competent enough, considering.

They landed, though it could probably be better described as a controlled crash, Moss gripping the bottom of his seat with one hand while the other tapped impatiently on his knee. If they were going to go up in a fireball after that annoying flight, then things truly [i]would[/i] have been a waste. Coming to a rest, or at least less of a commotion, he got out of the plane with the rest of them, got into the bus with the rest of them, duffel bag heaved over a shoulder.

On the way they listened to the speech, read over the almighty manila folder. It was just like what he’d heard before, all things considered, with the religious nuts having control over basically everything, government frozen, and the resistance to it being broken up over not being supported. Having a clear target to extract was nice, though a little worrying. Moss listened to the others chime-in too, most of them offering up ooh-rah while Khattak stuck-out by rattling off a number of specific questions that really wasn't the thing he expected to get answered on a bus. A smile touched the corners of his mouth, wry.

[color=#4682B4]“What a hero, getting up and captured. I like him already. What the lady said, though…we have details on this place at all? Infrastructure and layouts.”[/color]