Somewhere on Bouvet Island, somewhere in the South Atlantic
1200 Hours

The cold brushed into the Airbase, the artificial ground off the icy glacier of Bouvet able to just about accommodate a C17 Globemaster, and right now, one sat in a massive hangar. A couple of F35A jets, and a few Desert Patrol Vehicles sat around other parts of the base, with even a Pandur II APC and a V22 Osprey, that looked like it could be put away into the C17 for transport, was there.

But there was almost nobody here. The air crew were by their aircraft, and overall, only a few buildings were around, the place abandoned by the Norwegians ten years ago since being constructed 20 for a "security" purpose in the South Atlantic, with maybe jets and helicopters here. But there was one particular building to note. It was a concrete-reinforced structure, looking like some sort of nuclear bunker, in which most of the team sat around within, in their spare time. It was mostly underground, but heated, keeping the freezing cold out. Imran sat with the others in the big comfy lounge for Scimitar members, himself sat by a desk and busy doing Chemistry work, with a laptop, a pen and paper, and some ridiculous equations. Just some paperwork, he said to himself. They had gone out on a few operations in the last few weeks, and a few trinkets were here. Pictures, desks, but it was mainly a few sofas, a Satellite TV and a few other things. A suit of a heavy gunner sat in one corner, as an ornament of some sort- one that seemed to have been taken down by the fragile headplate. A cooler with weak beers and spirits as well as soft drinks was in the lounge, and it was like a man-cave of sorts- and in through the next door, a large underground shooting range paired up with an armory that seemed like a vault existed, segregated into the team's individual stuff- the Heavies having their own room for the sheer volume of equipment that they had. Another door from the lounge went to sleeping quarters, for postings here, and a another went to an operations room, closer to the surface. Up top, there was a few other peripheral buildings- one posting a SAM site and several UGVs out of the cold, with another being an abandoned air control tower that served no purpose now.

Inside, Imran looked over to the others, wearing simply a polo shirt and a pair of jeans, wearing his blue turban and at full beard today.
"Guys, you been out there today? Shit, Svetlana and Antoine have been out for a long time, up on the glacier. I mean...who knows what they are up to there, and you all know what Svetlana can be like." Imran said in his posh English-Pakistani accent, chuckling, just hoping the cold hadn't hit the giant Russian's head. The giant Swede occupied a lot of the large room to Imran in some way, and even Imran had to say that Bjorn's combination of a beard and his dark ponytail did scare the literal shit out of him. The Japanese girl seemed rather small, but had a significant place, as well as Howard, being how he was today. Sikhs couldn't drink alcohol, so Imran had a bottle of warm tea by his side, as he carried on working, aware that nothing had come through today from Spectre- a man that the team simply knew as just one contact, that sometimes told them what they faced. Imran kept his sat phone close by on the table, aware that when it rang, they were going. Spectre was simply a front for whatever it was, Imran judged- it had to be a higher entity, such as the UN or NATO that had this force in place. But really, Imran had no idea. They were just dealing with groups and organizations that were more than terrorists, more than simple bombers. There were powerful people, with connections to governments who had more technology than they should have had. They had modern rifles, hell, armor and equipment that should not have existed in their hands. They were sometimes all just Chinese, or multinational. The rogue groups came under the classification as "Ultrasergents", being a mixed grouping for enemies that had anything from heavy armor to mysteriously acquired modern equipment. Special Forces would never stand a chance against them- and they waged war covertly, quietly tapping out governments across the globe. And they had to stop it, and had every means. That was all Imran knew- that they were a counterbalance.
"Hmm...we really need to go out again. Last time when I think we saved that politician in Azerbaijan was too close. I mean, I had to run with him, all the way to the fucking van while these fuckers are trying to level the embassy!"

---

Meanwhile on an inactive and glaciated part in the central of the island, were an unlikely two. Svetlana, wearing thick thermals and a black winter jacket of some sort along with a Russian hat, looked back at Antoine, as she looked down, the glacier ridge huge, as she put away her crampons and her ice picks, clambering onto a vista point. Svetlana only needed to look at Antoine, to know that she lusted over her truly. She wanted to on times like this, ask her out. Just to spend some more time, do more. But she didn't know that Antoine was in love with Bjorn- or that Bjorn liked her own curves very much. Perhaps they were at different levels, but Svetlana knew they were going down. Svetlana herself, you could tell had distinctive features, both at where you knew to look- and they in themselves, were pretty overwhelming.
"Hmm...wingsuiting. Long time since I do this. We go down to base, down there." Svetlana said, widening her wingsuit, oversized clearly to accomodate for her. She widened the wings out, as she secured it to herself, checking the parachute, looking at Antoine, as she checked the legs. She had a perfect view over the artificial ground that made up the airbase- the concrete extending a tiny bit from the landmass. But there wasn't a direct route there- and Svetlana knew that they would be skimming the ground down a steep glacial ridge to get there. A mixture of adrenaline and lust for Antoine just got Svetlana going, as she readied up.
"You ready?" Svetlana said, the seven foot six mass of Russian looming over Antoine's back, Svetlana perhaps a little unaware that if Antoine turned her head around, she'd barely come up to the Russian's pair.

Gracefully did her fingers slip across the steel woven strings, the thick but smooth, polished rosewood of the neck of her cherished instrument, adrift in a sea of notes, of chords and arpeggios she played precisely and accurately with every little chime of the strings she plucked, strumming the beat up Gibson Acoustic with her thin plastic Dunlop pick. What she was composing with her guitar was unclear and quite obscure to the short Japanese girl, but other than that, to her musically trained ear, the improvised, spur of the moment melody sounded quite lovely, so she continued to play along with it, humming the bars in her head of a few lyrics made up on the spot, liking very much how they accompanied perfectly the little guitar riff she strummed, but she wouldn't dare to sing them aloud. No...not with her voice Yumiko thought. Sure she was inclined with every other instrument that came along, but singing....well....it just wasn't her specialty, especially after hearing herself sing once and vowing never to do it again! Ever! So for now, she would just suffice with strumming her guitar, taking in the sweet rhythms, the pleasant chimes of the strings in perfect harmony with one another, culminating into what the pint sized soldier believed to be one of her best.

Typical of her, whenever Yumiko was in her zone, whether it was with an instrument nestled softly in her hands or a big ass Light Machine Gun clattering madly with raw firepower on the battlefield, the girl was barely aware of anything and anyone being around other than her, alone in the very recesses of her eccentric and bubbly mind. Slipping into another song on her guitar, she plucked the strings and let her fingers dance smoothly across the fretboard, all while she was deep in thought. She wondered what life may have been like for her had she not become a soldier, thinking of how it would be...living, breathing, and sleeping as a normal, everyday civilian. She would probably have a nice beach house, a cozy little home just off the white, pearl sand beaches of Okinawa, where she could spend her days gazing at the water, admiring the dancing rays of the sun bouncing off the crystal blue ocean, the peaceful melody of the waves washing onto the shoreline hypnotizing her, lulling her into a deep, dreamy trance....about the same as when she played her instrument lovingly.

But it took only the familiar and rather thick Pakistani accent of their leader Imran to jolt her out of the dreamlike state she was gently falling into. Ugh! Thanks alot, Imran! Yumiko grumbled on the inside. Dammit, she was just to the point of perfect, damn perfect relaxation and up and atom she was at the sound of the Paki, asking the team if they had been outside any today. To which Yumiko's response was "Watashi o karaka~tsu teru no? Sore wa soko ni zero-do no yōna monoda!" And did he have to mention that giant, brutish Russian chick, especially by a name that sent such fearful quivers through the tiny girl's spine. Sure....Yumiko was into the ladies, but seeing how Svetlana was the only lesbian about....that was pretty much slim pickings, but it was not because she didn't think Svetlana was totally hot, it was just....the Japanese girl was scared fucking shitless by the towering Ruskie, and not just her height was big! Her gazongas would probably smother poor Yumiko to death, and.....while that did seem a hell of a way to go, death by Russian motorboat was not on Yumiko's agenda at all. Hell, even the mental picture of a gargantuan, naked Svetlana crushing her in bed with all her bulging muscles....and her boobs, that was downright creepypasta material! Nightmare fuel on a caffeine drip!

So to shake the haunting and possibly mental scarring visage from her brain Bad brain! Why you make me think that?!, Yumiko just went back to playing her guitar, listening to Imran ramble on about their last mission, protecting and extracting an HVI who turned out to be the Azerbaijani Prime Minister. Well...couldn't be as bad as in Tokyo when her zipline goofed on her and she ended up hanging upside down....nearly five hundred feet in the air and dangling by a wire....but that was still less scary than the thought of Svetlana ravaging her....and dammit there she was shivering again. Oh well...just blame it on the cold.

Schreep-rikt...Schreep-rikt

This same sound played again and again softly from where Howard sat. A section of the room where he hung various trophies that he though were worthy of being trophies. A huge three meter wide set of moose antlers, from a massive creature he had hunted, and had fed himself and some of the local populace near his hunting grounds for almost a week.

Schreep-rikt...Schreep-rikt

Another was an elegant looking thigh bone, taken from a deer, that when alive had been almost 7 feet tall at the head, and had been one of his most entertaining, and rewarding stalks he had ever undertaken. The creature had lead him on a nine hour chase through woods, meadows and rocky hills. And had turned on Howard three times, trying to drive him off with hoof and antler each time. The buck had been a prince of the forest, and had put up the effort to prove it. Howard had done him the honor of holding a prime potluck, and using his meat to feed his friends and family.

Schreep-rikt...Schreep-rikt

And these are just a few interesting things on the wall, thing he's proud of, having caught each one with his own browned hands. Finally the series of sounds ends. And he raises the steel arrowhead he had been sharpening on a whetstone. The four edged broadhead arrowhead would punch through concrete if he had to fire it at something like that. He wanted to be ready after all.

He looked over at Imran as the East Indian spoke. Howard, the "west indian" hrmed outloud, "I was out earlier for my usual morning jog. But haven't been out there since. Been making myself work here in the building. Was maybe going to break out the practice weapon to take a few shots on the weapons range."

He reflected on the memories of the Azerbaijani operation. It had been a very uninteresting op for the sniper. To many windows, and far far far too many instances of him having to use bow and carbine rather then the heavy rifle he kept. He frowned a little, "If we do go out again, can we pick somewhere that I can actually do my job?" He smiled a little, then picked up another arrowhead, this one looking like a long thin needle point. He looked it over, got some water out of a bucket beside him, spread it on the whetstone and leaned down...

Schreep-rikt...Schreep-rikt

Bjorn sat in his room, trying to unwind after a nearly botched mission with the Azerbaijani Prime Minister. Azerbaijan ranked pretty high on the "Bjorn's List of Shitholes" and that list was increasing everyday. When Imran walked in, Bjorn kept reading his book, trying not too take up too much room, but when the team lead mention "Svety", his ears perked. Svety (or Svetlana. Only he was allowed to call her Svety) had been out for quite some time. Despite his soft spot for the amazon, Bjorn knew she could take care of herself.

"Svety will be fine." he said. "She's never let us down before."

He folded the corner of his Von Clauswitz book and set it down on the table in front of him. "Still, if you think we should go looking for her and Antoine, just say so." Before he could say more, the small microwave in the room dinged.

"Shit, my hot-pocket is done." He said while strolling over to the microwave.

The bitterly cold winds atop the glacier were dancing across Antoine's wing suit covered skin. However, to her, it was no worse really than a high-altitude jump, as both happened to be unbelievably cold. Her mind instinctively gauged the distance between her current position and their LZ in the base, and judged how fast she could get there, and how slowly she was actually going to get there. These two numbers were vastly different, because Antoine always took her time when using her modified wing suit for leisure. The suit was much lighter and featured a dramatic modification, it very rarely mounted a parachute. Antoine could land just like the birds she so adored, and she could control her suit better than anyone else. Tucked into a holster on her left thigh was her ever-present P226 sidearm, and on her right was a Camilius combat knife, the same one she'd carried in the Legion. She was never without either of these things as, unlike the others, she was always prepared for a fight.

Turning her head to face the large Russian, just to have her vision filled with the bottom of the Russian's large breasts. Antoine was willing to admit, the Russian was sexy, incredibly so. Indeed she practically oozed sex appeal from every pore, however she had her eyes set on a man, the team's resident viking Bjorn. She smiled slightly at a passing thought of the aforementioned viking and said "Oui Lana." This was the nickname Antoine had chosen for the Russian, since Svetlana was far too long in her opinion, "I'm ready to go. I won't even race you this time, since I want to take my time." She then got to her feet and took a few steps back, spreading her arms and allowing her wings to spread out just a bit more. Then, the women who was light as air got a running start and jumped.

For a brief moment, the feeling of falling reached Antoine as she angled her body for the low-flying, high-risk flight she was to take. Then, she spread her arms more and the wings on her suit fully filled out. Just like that, the air caught her and embraced her, carrying the Swede safely towards the ground. Sure, she was going at breakneck speeds that would kill her instantaneously if she were to hit the ground, but she knew she wouldn't. Antoine was far too good, and the wind far too kind to her, for that to happen. Just as she was nearing the point of no return, she angled up into actual flight.

Antoine's giddy laughter filled the air as she floated through the sky like the birds she'd held so precious to her in childhood. By simply changing the angle of her arms, she changed her direction and began heading on their route to the base. Antoine knew of the thermals on this island so well she could hit them blindfolded, gagged, and with her ears cut off most likely. She instinctively angled into them, the warmer winds carrying her up and giving her precious altitude. The path Antoine took to base was long and winding, taking her around the various landmarks of the island, or rather the lack thereof.

It was only 20 minutes of flight before Antoine was descending into the base, though in reality it should have only taken the infiltrator 5-8 minutes to get there if she were going for speed. However, it still wasn't short enough for the woman as she descended to the ground again. As she got there, she effortlessly flared herself up to reduce her speed. Then, in one swift motion, brought her arm down and unzipped the wing suit, allowing her to easily fall the last 20 feet to the ground. Tucking into a roll as she landed, Antoine was on her feet in less than a second as she stood up with one, fluid motion. She then took off at a run, catching her precious suit as it reached the ground a little further up than her. Though base security, and indeed her higher ups, never ceased to complain about the many heart-attacks she provided them with on account of her dangerous hobby and even more dangerous landing method, she hadn't messed up yet and so never failed to ignore these complaints.

Beneath her wingsuit, protecting her modesty, was her infiltrator suit. She reclaimed her holster and sheathe from the wing suit before making her way to her room to change. She unzipped the infiltration suit and let it fall from her body once she was alone, leaving a completely naked Antoine standing in the center of her room. She immediately donned her underwear and casual clothing before trooping into the common room, where she found the rest of her team waiting. Instinctively, she chose a rarely taken route to the room and slide into a nearby chair quietly so as to avoid alerting the people she worked with on a daily basis. She only alerted them with a softly spoken greeting of "Bonjour, Mes Amis. How are you all?" As ever, Antoine's eyes were fixed firmly on her lap, though she occasionally glanced up at Bjorn, just to blush and immediately look back down.

Setting down her guitar, the little Japanese girl sighed, her almondine eyes glancing over to the small kitty backpack next to her, which more or less belonged to her obviously, because Yumiko knew the others wouldn't be caught dead carrying around something like that, especially their brutish Aryan Manly-Man Bjorn. The guy would sooner go on a pillaging of Norway with Amon Amarth blaring in the background than he would carry a kawaii backpack around. Same for the contents of the bag, which Yumiko carelessly ruffled through, tossing a few multicolored, zebra socks, some kawaii print shirts and short shorts here and there, before finally pulling from her bag a manga she packed just to past the time, and of course....it was yuri, her favorite genre.

Eagerly and sitting legs crossed on the ratty couch of the common room, she eyed the pages with such delight, reading in her mind the carefully written dialogue, the comedic and heartwarming story of two cute little schoolgirls in love, such beautiful art to accompany the cheery and poetic words. Dreamily the girl sighed, wondering if one day she could have a relationship that adorable, that lovingly. It seemed a bit....well...out of the question really, what with the only cute girl being Antoine, that lovely, smooth French accent making Yumiko all hot and bothered every time....every damn time she heard it. But unfortunately for her, rumor had it around the team the French Dame had her sights set on Ulfric Stormcloak over there, and here Yumiko was thinking French women loved going lesbo. Oh well...guess you couldn't win them all.....and the Japanese chick was certainly winning nothing with Svetlana, cringing and about gagging at that ill thought again. Luckily for her, the ding of the microwave broke her from those haunting imaginings. "Ramen!!" Gleefully and ever obnoxiously did Yumiko blurt out, zipping over to the microwave and passing up the muscular viking, but wait.....what the fuck was this?!! "Ehhhhh?!" Where was her ramen?! She....she was sure she put it in the microwave! What the....what the hell was a Hot Pocket doing in place of her ramen?!

Bitterly the Japanese girl glared at Bjorn, suspecting him for the disappearance of her delicious lunch, then raising her tiny fists to the brute and barking at him....albeit in a high pitched and squeaky tone that was about as intimidating as a flea next to a crashing Boeing jet. "Kono baka yarō! Watashi wa anata ga watashi no chūshoku o gomibako nante shinjirarenai! Kuso baka!" With an angry snarl to finish off that little rant, Yumiko marched back to the couch, plopping onto it with a "Hmph!" and crossing her arms, her disdainful, obsidian eyes still glaring contemptuously towards the Nord, a blowing of raspberries before she snatched up her manga and continued reading from where she left off, only riled out of it again by Antoine entering the room...again with that ever sultry voice of hers lulling the Japanese girl....only for a bit until she saw the lovely French woman's eyes shift over to Bjorn, the ramen trashing Viking from Winterhold (seriously too easy with these Skyrim jokes), then it was back to fuming with anger beneath the black and white pages of Yumiko's choice reading material, a simple, "Konnichiwa, Antowānu-san." and a wave from behind her manga.

Imran looked to the team, still carrying on with his work as he listened to them, before turning his head. He wanted to shake his head sometimes at what Yumiko was like, but he learned to just deal with it. She had her quirks, and she was very, very good at what she did. So in some ways, while Imran felt like the voice of reason, he knew to himself that while his team wasn't any reasonable sense to be made out of, that they did what they did better than anyone else on the planet.
"Probably, Howard. I mean, you did what you could- and we've gone over everything that happened. Bastard's alive, we're alive, and somehow, I didn't get scorched carrying his sorry bloody self out." Imran said, his accent particular on the bloody. He had accustomed himself to Officerial, and Oxford life too much perhaps- it was a stark contrast from Lahore. But none the less, he did have his quirks oat other times.
"We won't need to look for her. I mean, we're talking a Russian and a Swiss pair of girls on a glacier somewhere over there...they're used to the cold, it's only good fortune that I went up K2 and found out what cold really means a few years ago." Imran said, chuckling as he watched Bjorn get up, the whole height of him. The rooms were all specially nine foot tall- but in some way, it gave a depth to the place, and it meant that the giants that were Svetlana and Bjorn didn't walk into concrete pillars that occasionally jutted a tiny bit out from the roof at times, then looking at Yumiko then come to perhaps an estranged look that what was in the microwave wasn't exactly hers. But being seven foot five over a five foot little Japanese operator meant that even anyone else in the room didn't need Imran's inteligence to say that even as benevolent and calmed that Bjorn could be out of his Viking berserker decapitating wolves with his axe mode, it didn't make sense for her. Understanding Yumiko wasn't worth it in his own eyes- and it was what made it better to just deal with it.
"Oh damn...you seem to have a way with people Yumiko..." Imran said, chuckling a little as he carried on working, either pen to paper or fingers to the keyboard of his laptop.

---

Svetlana watched on, aware that Antoine was far better at this than her. Though Svetlana's wasn't as incredible with lift and pure speed, it had a large wingspan, between her hands and legs. It was simply huge, and it fluttered in the breeze, the black of the wingsuit contrasted with a smidge of blue on the leg wing. She bent over, perhaps a little too close to Antoine, the parapac material inflating the wings as some wind blew in, and Svetlana set off a smoke grenade on her left leg. She always wondered if she would be able to fly truly like Antoine one day, but for now, she could at least get her way down, and she'd keep as close as possible for the moment.
"It is a beautiful glacier, why not. See you down the bottom." Svetlana said, watching Antoine go first, as she let rip from her rear, the odourless gas spewing out as she lept off, wind picking up as it blew her hair, her hat off for obvious reasons. It would just get blown off, and besides, the adrenaline warmed her large body like a radiator. Even from afar, you could tell something big was gilding down the glacier ridge, as Svetlana dived, coming close to the side. The thin crack in the glacier was scary, but perfect for this sort of thing, as Svetlana eyed up Antoine. She flipped over, flying belly-up, as she watched the blue smoke trail pour from her leg, leaving a long trail in the glacier, smirking as she turned and almost instantly swerved past an outcrop, flying over and watching Antoine glide on ahead. It went on for minutes- the wingsuits they wore had some incredible lift, and with the thermals on parts of the glacial ridge, it meant that they were even able to gain a few meters and clear ridges that would have otherwise been impossible to take. Looking at the airbase, Svetlana watched on as Antoine went into her manuever, coming in sharp and flaring, as she unzipped. Svetlana knew it was her time- being about 400m off the deck now. She pulled upwards hard, pulled the toggle on her chest hard, hearing the worst nightmare that any jumper could afford. She pulled it again. Nothing. It was stuck. Svetlana realized her little existance could come to an end, but even she had better ideas than this. While Antoine was skilled enough to perhaps come in at exactly the right speed and generate a ton of lift that slowed her down both horizontally and verticlaly, letting her drop down, Svetlana knew that while she could probably survive, it would hurt. Well, this was it. Now or never, she said to herself. She released the parachute from her suit, as she proceeded to dive down again, aware that there was only really one way she was going to survive this. There wasn't any chance of copying Antoine- she had to do it differently if she was going to be still that unbreakable woman. Diving down, she was almost about to pancake into the runway as she pulled up,, barely above the ground and flying past a set of tetrapods and a sea wall, before now coming within a meter of the raging sea.
"Shit..." Svetlana said to herself, as he pulled up for the last time, already killing her speed, as she hit the water.

Svetlana unstrapped her wingsuit, already taking in air. Her lungs were full of air, and she knew what to do. Her body's temprature plumetted, but she didn't give a fuck. She swam up, the waves eventually kicking her ashore, as she took the soaked wingsuit over her shoulder. And worst of all, she only had a thermal bra and some panties on underneath, that was all she had before the climb and all. And the former weren't exactly good at their job. As she clambered over the coastal defenses, she knew that while Antoine was casually collecting her stuff, she was wet. But intact, and perhaps a little bare.

She ran across the runway, cursing to herself about whoever had packed her chute. She knew Antoine had already gone in, but as Svetlana entered, having to go through the side of the common room following Antoine, you could tell that any man's jaw would have dropped at the sight, of her two breasts just about held back by a large thermal bra, and her underwear, which was the same material. And still showed almost all of her rear. It wasn't worth even saying a word, as Imran knew that Svetlana knew that every single eye was pinned to her. She said nothing herself, as she walked to the changing room, accidentally sneaking a look of Antoine as she walked past one of the rooms, lust taking over as she saw Antoine's face look away, but her bare front in view for a millisecond. Something which sent shivers through Svetlana, and a surge of excitement filled her body, as she herself walked on, into her own, a smile on her face as she tucked her hair back and shutting the door, dropped both her bra and her underwear, words not explaining the hidden observer's view, as she got a new pair of underwear on, followed by a dry bra on her wet, salty water soaked skin. A vest and wool jumper followed, as well as a pair of jeans, clearly oversized for anyone normal but right for her size, as she ditched her wingsuit, shivering a little as she walked back to the common room.

Imran looked at the others, a certain look in his face. Bjorn of all people looked the most aroused, somehow just...well, static in how he was in thought at what he had just seen. Antoine came in first, perhaps blushing a little from what Imran could make out. Whatever it was in his team, Imran didn't entirely understanding, but he had a rough idea of what had to be said.
"Good...lots of work, and then suddenly, Svetlana walks past like that. Classic." Imran said, as in that moment, Svetlana literally walked in.
"It is fucking cold in that ocean today, I tell you...God, I'm going to find the jumpmaster and literally hang him by his own parachute cord when I find him. Either that or sit on his face and see what he feels like to be pancaked at 50mph when I went into the water. You need to teach me one day Antoine how to do that, that is amazing." Antoine said, as she shivered a little, looking specifically at Imran with a certain face as she then chuckled, walking over to the sofa as she landed on the sofa by Antoine and Bjorn, leaning back and in particular, words against weren't needed as she leant back a little. With Svetlana, Svets or Lana, you just realized that she stopped caring that she was just looked at, a lot. She embraced it even, didn't mind that she had such curves and beauty. It was just when men tried to manipulate that to their advantage, that she got angry- and it was perfectly fine to Svetlana at least if men had their hearts racing in her presence.

Antoine, suddenly aware of Svetlana sitting next to her, startled almost instinctively. She wasn't in a wing suit any longer, now she was in a normal situation, and her confidence seemed to have vanished. However, before her instincts could make her flee, she gave a minimalist smile and said "I'll be sure to teach you one day Lana." Seeking a more solitary area, she quickly retreated to a folding chair tucked into a corner. Antoine had made sure to keep this chair stashed in the room in order to ensure that she was never forced to sit with the others. She liked them and all, but people made her incredibly nervous, especially her beloved Bjorn. However, Antoine did acknowledge that other prospects for her existed beyond the viking, however the pickings were slim in her opinion.

There was Imran, the businesslike leader of their team, though he did have his comedic side. However, his commanding presence always cowed Antoine into silence when they weren't on operations. He was a good man, she was sure, however she couldn't ever manage to speak up to him much. Perhaps it was his authority over her, or perhaps it was just his demeanor, but he was always able to keep Antoine quiet simply by existing, and indeed it took all her will not to hide from the man, not that she feared him specifically, just people like him.

There was Yumiko, as well, the smaller Japanese girl. Antoine was a good deal taller than her, so she didn't have as hard of a time talking to the girl. Her own presence wasn't as large as the other members of the team, so she didn't make Antoine as nervous. However, Antoine had no idea which way the girl swung, so she left that prospect as a last resort. However, she could honestly say that Yumiko was a good friend of hers, and likely one of the only people she would, realistically, be willing to operate with outside of Scimitar. She loved Bjorn and Svetlana was a good friend, but she couldn't operate with either of them outside of the team because of their styles. Imran was more likely, however he was still a bit too....larger than life, for Antoine.

Antoine had noticed that Yumiko had greeted her as she'd entered the room, so she carefully lifted her head and looked at the girl. She gave a shy smile as she stood up before walking over to the chair Yumiko had seated herself in. Antoine leaned over the back and casually set her head on Yumiko's shoulder, asking "What are you reading, Yumi?" Another nickname, Antoine really didn't like to call people by their full name. However, even as she waited for an answer, she attempted to read the book in Yumiko's hands. However, it was in Japanese, which Antoine hadn't ever had to read before, so she came up completely blank.

Howard put aside the arrowheads he had finished sharpening, when they went out they'd punch through concrete. He groaned then stretched. With a sigh he sat for abit, rubbing his chin, wondering what he should do with himself. He was about to get up when the ramen altercation began. Like a magician he reached down beside his table, and produced a bag of buttered popcorn that he keeps around just for this sort of situation. He makes a motion to Imran if he wanted some, while at the same time nibbling down a handful of the salted buttery bits. He watched the argument and and precedings with a grin on his face. He loved the camraderie this group of people had, they could get mad at each other, scream, stomp and yell. But it was all in good spirits as they knew, that they'd have each others backs when it came to the heat of combat. He grins broadly, "Always something new in Scimitar huh?" He chuckles softly, setting the popcorn bag down on the table grinning broadly. He'd always feel like a member of something when he's around the other Scimitar members.

He gets up and starts to make for the shooting range when Antonie appears. He stops, and waves to the infiltrator, "How was the flight? Get some decent air out there? I honestly can't understand how you do it. Just seems strange to me."

He grins is once again starts to leave the room when Svetlana enters. And he stops.

One things he's always found is that when Svetlana is in the room, he's the one who feels like prey. She dominates a room. It's a feeling the professional sustenance hunter is not used to. He's usually the predator, gun or bow in hand. Stalking the unaware creatures that would become his dinner. He'd hunted bears, large stag, all manner of beasts that can kill you if they put their mind to it. But Svetty was in a league all her own. And he was likely the only one to feel like prey. And not in a sexual way. He knew how she swung.

After abit he shook himself out of that torpor. And grinned, "Well...there's one of the reasons we're so successful, in all her glory no less." He shakes his head, "I'm gonna go fire off a few. I've got my earbead and throat mic if you need to reach me." He makes a beeline for the firing range, along the way, picking up his Lynx at the arsenal. You practice with the weapons you intend to use after all. As he pass through the common room again with his rifle, he waves to everyone yet again, already loading some of the practice rounds into the rifle.

Bjorn could only raise his eyebrows in confusion as Yumiko went on her tirade. He'd be offended if he understood a single word of what she was saying. He gathered that it was something about his hot pocket and the microwave, but he didn't know why. He just decided to let her say her spiel before moving on. That is, of course until she said Baka. Even with Bjorn's limited knowledge of Japanese, he knew what Baka meant."Listen you brat," Said Bjorn while rising to his full height. "I don't know what you are taking ab-" Bjorn was interrupted by the sound of the break room door opening.

And there she was.

Svetlana was nearly naked, but didn't seem to have a care in the world. She just walked in like nothing was out of place and made herself comfortable. Bjorn knew that she had no interest in men, but dammit, she was gorgeous. Antonine entered the room, but when Bjorn looked her way, she looked away. Why does she always do that? he thought to himself.

Bjorn wanted to be mad at Yumiko (and fold her in half) but after seeing Svetlana's Olympic level of perfection, he didn't really care anymore. While Yumiko was otherwise occupied, he took his hot pocket and went back to his book. Von Clausewitz was a military genius, but damn his book was long...

(Since Rusalka might take some time, I'm just going to jump to my post.)
(It's a very, very long one- but it has to be to set up Antoine/Howard's HAHO. Won't be like this ridiculously long in the future, I promise, since I will cut down shtuff. You can post in the second/third bit, the third being a little less applicable to all apart from Howard/Antoine.)

Imran carried on typing, as Howard left the room, looking over at him.
"Sure- I've got mine close to hand. I need to fix up the exoskeleton later, just brush it up a little. The engineers say it's as good as it gets, but I just want a little more spring in my step, you know. They say they're going to be working on something for you soon, Howard- they say they're getting to work on that mobility issue. Apparently something a little smaller scale than what I have, but it'll give you a better ability to move, to say the least." Imran said, as Howard then left the room, Imran finishing up a paragraph as he looked back at the team.
"Hmm...and done. For today, at least." Imran said, shutting his laptop with his work saved, as he checked the Chiappa Rhino on his desk, the six-round quickloader sitting right by it. He leaned back, as he wiped the barrel of the weapon clean, it shiny in it's gunsmithed grey. He pushed the magazine in, spinning the magazine, as he smirked. This thing was a good friend, a revolver for the future, in the way it negated recoil and handled in his hands. He stood up, tucking it into a little holder on his hip, as he looked to the rest.
"Svetlana, you all good with your weapons and all?" He asked, looking over at the Russian, the large female laughing.

Meanwhile, Svetlana was leaning back, and occasionally, swiping in a glance at Antoine from time to time as he then sat up.
"Yes, all is well. Technicians just put in a new layer of inner layer stuff, since a woman such as me needs perhaps more comfort than most. Especially in something that heavy, yes- it will not get lighter- but I have my ways to keep moving." Svetlana simply said, as she looked down, quickly adjusting her shirt as she then looked over in general towards Antoine again.
"Perhaps it is strange to fly. But it is flight, I suppose if you know what you are doing. Like an Eagle, soaring above your target and then you come in and steal your prey. Beautiful." Natalie said to her, as she leaned back, aware that Bjorn was close on the sofa. He seemed like a nice man, a good match if perhaps she was still interested in men, but she didn't click with him in some ways. Besides, she wasn't a Von Clausewitz person- she much prefered the study of men like Rommel and Ludendorff, as well as some works of Generals in the Russian Empire, continuing military strategy and tactics. Though she prefered the practical application of warfare- and knew that that whilst she was good when commanding, she was better when armored up.
"We really need to go on an operation soon...I mean, let me linger too long, I actually will hang that jumpmaster with that cord. I mean, I nearly died and he still gets a paycheck? Typical." Natalie said, as she laughed a little, the time beginning to pass now as Imran stood up, looking back at the rest.
"Fuck it, I'm going to shoot off some rounds and deal with my kit." Imran simply said, as he walked out the room, a little bit swiftly as he himself headed to his own area to get to work on his stuff. He had his headset around his ear and a neck mic, the typical way of communicating when needed.

---

Thirty minutes later, and Imran was still just checking his Mk48. Keep it mean, keep it clean, he said to himself, as she then heard a buzz over his ear.
"Raven, you copy? It's Spectre."
"I read you, Spectre. Situation?" Imran said, aware of the voice on the other end. It was the man that doled out what they did- and while again, Imran had no clue if he was UN, NATO or anything like that, he existed for a good purpose. And Imran had seen it too many times, when he knew that the enemy forces were more sometimes than a few AKs and PKMs. They were fully-developed combat forces with equivalent if not better kit than most SF. And could have exoskeletons or small mechanized suits even one time, a few infantry with thruster packs. Seriously, Imran thought to himself- that day being a hard fight as they had to simply destroy them than salvage the kit. None the less, he finished up, as Spectre began.
"Listen...we've got a situation, for your team. It's in rural Brazil, in the Amazon Rainforest- there's a covert biochemical plant that's been breached by Artemis Group. We're talking a Brazilian Area 51 in relation to what sort of shit they harvest there- toxins beyond recognition that trust me, are very bad shit. SF are being deployed, but they'll just stir shit- and I can count on your approach getting the job done. You know the group, right?"
"In a bad way, yes."
"Good. Then you've got ten minutes to mobilize the team, and get moving. I'll bring you up a tac map when you get closer, your call what vehicles you use. Keep in mind, this is the middle of Remoter Amazonian Rainforest- you'll need to be rapid over any terrain. The group is roughly a company-sized group, and the compound is a facility right in the rain-forest, no easy way out or airstrips."
"I got an idea then. How long till they escape?"
"Well, we have no idea- but air space is cut off to them. We assume they'll try and wriggle out, but you have 18 hours to do what you do. Further briefing to follow- get moving, Raven."
"Understood." Imran cut the connection, as he swore to himself, standing up from his previous kneeling position, as he changed frequencies on the throat mic.

"All Scimitar operators, get your shit together, we mobilize in ten. Brief to follow shortly- prepare for Jungle Warfare. Howard, Antoine, you'll be forward units, so get ready for that- everyone else, regular gear. We're dealing with Artemis here- so be on your fucking toes. Imran out." He simply said, as he then looked to his exoskeleton, aware that it was time. In a matter of minutes, he changed into his UCP/MTP camouflage fatigues, taking the Tactical Exoskeleton to bear along with all the kit. He kept the helmet by the side, as he checked the motors, and all the kit that was already attached. He moved out of the door, feeling the reinforcement in his movement hit already. He moved down the corridor, as he looked to Svetlana, who was moving down towards her armory.
"Thank fuck for that!" She simply said, as they both went in opposite directions, Svetlana making pace to her armory. She ran into the place, quickly taking her clothes off in the flick of a finger. She looked at her armor, and smirked, as she got to work. Lots of grunting, moaning and yelling later, strap pulling and velcro as well as securing meant that within five minutes, she had gone from nothing to a walking tank. She detached the helmet, putting it over her neckbrace, which came up to her lower jaw. Taking her Boonie Hat, she put it on her head, the female Spetsnaz operator about a million times scarier as she then put a pair of wrapround sunglasses over her eyes, before then loading her GMG with a 40mm belt from her rucksack, before jogging out of the room, the heavy looking as if she was coming to tear a new asshole. She looked just about over her neckbrace at the others, as she followed Imran, heading up and out of the complex. Her boobs rubbed against the suit's inside, and she realized she was sweating like mad, so she looked down into her neckbrace, whispering "Cooling On", as she then felt the rush of fans and liquid piping burst to life and almost freeze her body. Beautiful, she thought to herself, as she saw Imran outside, with his Mk48 to hand and looking around, on the icy runway. His MBT LAW and M32 MGL were also on his back, and his Rhino was at his hip, the exoskeleton and the good level of protection it provided not instantly visible- though the fact that his arms had a sort of reinforcement to them indicated that Imran had a little more force than most. He looked over, as the rest began arriving, all kitted up in their required combat equipment for this fight.
"The plan is simple lads- the C17 is firing up already, we take the two DPV vehicles. You go in one with me, Svetlana, and then Bjorn uses his M134 to fire from the back of one with Yumiko taking the wheel of that one. Drive those bastards into the rear bay, then parachute in and close on the compound with a rapid assault- though Howard and Antoine will have been on the ground already. I'll get more specifics, but we've got a two hours to spare when we get there, hours of nighttime that you can use Antoine to infiltrate and disable any defenses, while Howard eliminates patrols and guardposts in support of that. So that when we arrive, we can drive through the doors and carry on blazing hell." Imran said, looking at the group, as he cocked his Mk48, then firing a round in the air.
"We good?" Imran said, looking over before smirking.
"Goody gumdrops. Let's shift- Howard, Antoine, get set for a HAHO jump- High Altitude High Opening, so that perhaps you stay off their sights for a while. Oxygen masks and all that." He added, aware that maybe he was a bit serious- but at least it meant that things weren't too much of a clusterfuck. This was direct action, hard-hitting operations that he knew only a team like them could perform. He started moving to the vehicle hangar, already moving a little quicker than some in the team due to his exoskeleton giving his legs a lot more force, as he quickly found the set that they had, painted black. Imran smirked, as he jumped into the front of one, Svetlana at the back of the pack that were moving across to the vehicle store. Imran fired up the upgraded 4.0 litre V8 engine, these things a step above average. The tyres were meaner, the suspension stiffer and able to take a beating as well as the whole thing being adapted to carry a Heavy, such as Svetlana- with the rear seat where a gunner on a .50 cal being enlarged for that purpose with a specific way. It meant that Svetlana was able to bundle herself in, bringing her HK GMG to rise on a bullbar of the DPV, the barrel right above Imran's Turban, as he revved hard. He skidded out on the concrete store room, skidding around the corner as he saw the C17's back door open up, changing over on the comms.
"All on the plane, they'll rig the chutes onto the vehicles once we're on- Howard, Antoine, you all ready inside?" Imran said, the wheelspinning hard as he span through towards the back of the C17, flooring it as the crewmembers at the back even got out the way. He hit almost 60 before he hit the rear ramp, and despite braking before, hit the ramp with a significant pace, almost doing a mini-jump within the bay as it screeched to a halt, the brakes red-hot. He reversed a little. as the DPV in position, Svetlana adjusting her Boonie hat, as she bulged her front out a little for comfort in the suit, before reclining back into her rucksack against the seat. Imran turned to see her sheer size just sitting behind him, legs wide but armored to the hilt. Imran didn't know if driving this thing out of the plane without a chute would kill her in that thing, but all he knew was, it would take a lot of fire to kill that Russian and the Swede in his own suit. The jumpmasters in the C17 rigged up the DPVs, as the plane began to pull away, already going. They were mobilizing incredibly quickly, as the plane began to pick speed up, rolling over the concrete runway as it began to pull up, and they were up in the air, and in the dark.
"Best get comfortable..." Svetlana said, chuckling a little as she checked the GMG once more, the fact that her hair could be seen from the back of her boonie hat and her sunglasses didn't protect her, but sure as hell emphasized that there was a woman in that thing that was a badass.

---

0100 Hours
Somewhere above the Amazon Rainforest, Brazil

The rear door opened, the howling wind picking up, as Imran looked over, speaking on the radio now with his helmet on and his Turban compacted down, to accommodate for that- his turban flattened, to say the least in a better method.
"Okay, situation is as follows! We have a company-sized force that occupies the Rio Galvas research facility, Artemis forces armed with AK12, AN94 and various other weapons, we've also confirmed that they have some sort of exoskeleton on site, so watch your asses! It's a significant compound, plenty of stealth routes when you two hit the ground, Antoine and Howard- use the jungle and then the compound to sneak in close and do what you have to do. We need to take out their main generator in their base, so Antoine, prioritize that as well as sneaking like you do. Howard, eliminate any patrols that could affect us en route to the LZ, and guard-towers- kill them off and it should make it a lot easier. The plant is partly underground too, where the worst toxins are- they're trying to break past the secure doors that keep them from us and then get out of here with it. Let's make sure it doesn't happen." Imran said over the comms, being his typical authoritative self. He had to be- otherwise like he thought to himself earlier, there was no realistic chance they'd stand up to this force.
"Antoine, Howard, wait for greenlight then pull your chutes, stick close and drift towards the GPS on your HUD! We will wait for when you want us to come- but remember, don't get greedy down there! Good luck!" Imran said, as he sat up, looking at Svetlana's face.
"Pfft. Come on already, I want to just drop in and kill them all myself while we chute in with the vehicle. I like that idea more." She said, as she sat back, a sort of look on her face.
"You can go ahead if you like, but I quite like being able to live- you know, doing this shit for another day. Relax, we'll get our cut of action." Imran said, the Mk48 in the lugwell to his side, as he knew that it would still be a while. However, the light turned green, and Howard and Antoine were out of there, headed for some stealthy recon and infiltration.

When Antoine heard the call over her ever-present earpiece, she immediately ghosted out of the room without an acknowledgement. In the Armory, she grabbed her MP5SSD and ammunition for it and her sidearm, along with her throwing knives and some C4 and a detonator. She then retreated to her room where she hastily donned her infiltration suit then used the webbing to secure her gear to the suit. Then, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the confidence that she couldn't have when speaking with her team bubble out from it's place deep inside of her. With a new-found grin adorning her face, Antoine slid from her room like a cat, the door closing and locking without a sound.

Soon, she was waiting with the plane and listening to Imran's briefing, smiling wide when she was told she'd be the advance unit. However, this quickly crumpled to a slight pout when she was told it was a HAHO jump. She loved skydiving, but using her precious wing suit was so much more fun and made operating easier. She sighed and accepted his decision though, there was a reason she wasn't a tactician. While the others read books on strategy by this general or that, she read any fiction book she could get. That and, thanks to Yumiko's influence, she'd begun reading any Manga she could find in English, even watching the occasional Anime. Strapping on her chute and sitting in the C-17, she heard a call asking if she was ready, and she replied "Ready to go." The DPVs slammed into the bay and Antoine slunk away from the noisy vehicles before settling in for the ride, her eyelids fluttering shut as she rested in preparation for a long night

Antoine groggily awoke a little while later, mumbling "1 AM is too early for an operation." She listened to the updated briefing however, and laughed slightly, mumbling "AK pattern, geez, can't these guys get better toys?" However, she also nodded when she was given a priority target, generators. That was almost too easy, she didn't even have to blow things like that up! Just stab it a few times with her trusty Camilius knife and it was down for the count. However, she giggled likely at Svetlana's face and stood, saying "I'll save some for you Lana." She then walked to the door as the light turned green and, with her combat confidence running high, blew a kiss into the bay and said "Yumiko, Bjorn watch this!" She then casually allowed herself to fall from the plane, the wind immediately catching her in it's protective grasp. As soon as her finely tuned instincts told her it was safe to do so, she pulled the chute cord and allowed herself to float to the earth.

Nearing the canopy of the rain forest, Antoine performed a variation of her dismount maneuver from her wing suit. She angled her chute into a large tree, allowing it to gently entangle with the various branches before cutting herself free with her knife and easily dropping to a thick branch below. She then began to run from tree to tree, knife rapidly dropped back into it's sheathe. She jumped from branch to branch with the ease and agility of a creature native to these very trees, though her own upbringing couldn't have brought her farther from nature. When the compound came into position, she stopped and whispered, her voice being picked up by the standard issue throat mic "This is Bluebird, moving in. Be a proper gentleman and keep me safe Lasagna."

With these words, she carefully made her way through the trees until she was above the compound on a branch too thin to hold most people, but it held the petite woman as she stood in precisely the right way. A quick jump and a roll later, and she was crouched on the roof of one of the buildings. Immediately, she ran across the roof and jumped to a nearby bit of concrete that served as a ledge, and from there use her powerful leg muscles to jump and then used her momentum to swing from a bit of exposed metal to the ground next to the door labeled, in Spanish, as maintenance. Somewhere in there, she knew, her objective would lay, so drawing her MP5SD6 she entered the building.

After carefully slinking through 4 floors of the complex, the generator room was in sight. However, her final obstacle was a man in tactical gear, holding an AN-94 Assault Rifle. Antoine could've just shot him of course, but that would leave more traces. Bullet casings that would hit the ground, a bigger blood spray, it would be nasty. Instead, she put her SMG back on the webbing and grabbed one of her throwing knives. Doing the many little calculations that went into knife throwing within a second, Antoine let fly. The blade pierced the man's throat, but he didn't even have time to gasp in surprise as Antoine herself followed right behind it. First came a fist, ramming the knife in even deeper, then a powerful kick to his right shin dropped him to his knees, then she whipped around him and with one hand covered his mouth while the other began sliding the knife carefully down before removing it and wiping it on the man's own uniform. She carefully pulled him into a nearby bathroom and placed him on a toilet, shutting the stall door and locking it before crawling out and returning to the generator room. From there, she placed a charge carefully so it was out of sight and slunk back out of the complex just as quietly as she'd entered, reporting over the radio "Bluebird here, the lightning box is ready to strike, beginning general ops." With a grin, Antoine slunk back into the darkness, to do her bloody work.

Howard had been firing off a few rounds on the gun range, making sure his aim was still true, and his scope in order.

He had been having a fun little time, trying to pull off ricochet shots on a target behind a concrete wall. When the call to mobilize had come. He grabbed his rifle, and bolted through the buildings. He'd ran to the armory and arsenal, reaching it just a little behind Antoine, and had grabbed his kit. His combat BDUs in black, grey and brown, padded gloves and boots, the ghille swung over that, going from casual to bush-wookie suddenly. He grabbed his carbine, his 'hawks and all his extra kit. Placing them where he can reach them in a reasonable fashion. He also quickly grabbed live rounds, and explosives, slotting them away. He also grabbed the tins of face paint he used. And made for the plane.

---

Hours later, he had woken about 2 hours before, used to late and early nights while hunting. His stalks would take place in the dead of night or in the early morning dark. It didn't matter when you were a sustenance hunter. You had to eat. So he was wide awake and bushy tailed, and had been applying his face paint. The hunters mask taking shape bit by bit. A hand mirror and his fingers and a Popsicle stick being used to apply the paint.

He looked up at Antoine when she woke and he smiled, "I ought to take you on one of my hunts one day. Get you used to dead of night wakefulness." He grins playfully at Antoine. He then put his paints away in a pouch, stood up and moved over to get a parachute on, "Creator watch all of us." He grinned then pulled his ghille tight.

He caught air out behind Antoine. Woofing abit as the chute was pulled and they began to drift down.

He aimed for a clearing, it was close to the GPS point and wouldn't put him too far off course. He landed lightly, his moose bone handle knife whispering out and cutting through his cords, and shrugging his chute pack off, stuffing chute and pack under a tree to be recovered later. He tapped his mic, "Lasagna on the ground. Do you're thing Bluebird, I'll do mine. I saw a firing position just a little west of the base. It won't take me long to get there." He unshouldered his carbine and made into the foliage. Picking his way carefully, his eyes quickly getting used to the almost complete dark of the undergrowth. He vanished into the leaves, as he went he plucked fronds and leaves from the ferns and bushes, adding them to his ghille, customizing the suit to the environment.

He encountered a few patrols as he made his way to the firing location. Three man walking patrols with torches and flashlights, making their night vision poor. He took them out silently, then dragged them off their paths. This would make the other groups progress easier. He tapped his mic, "Three patrols down Bluebird, how does the compound look? ETA on my end, 2 minutes. Team Two, you ought to start your landing soon. Once I start firing things will light up pretty fast." He continued to jog through the undergrowth reaching an out cropping then began to climb, already a grin on his face, as he now got to do what he did best, make a long range mess of people. He never missed, and he was going to prove that soon.

"All Scimitar operators, get your shit together, we mobilize in ten." said the Team Lead, Imran. Bjorn calmly earmarked his book and got up, making his way towards his room. Time to earn our paycheck's. he thought to himself. And he thanked the All-Father that he had such an awesome job.

He opened his arms locker and grabbed his kit. His AK 5 will probably be slung over his shoulder the whole time, but it was still a good thing to have, just in case. His Glock and 100 round drum mag were coming, for sure. The minigun was rather unwieldy, so he would keep it in pieces and put it together on the plane ride over. Brunhilde, however, would stay in the loop on his left hip at all times. He didn't like leaving the house without it, much less going into battle without it. Finally, before putting on his armor, he applied his face paint. Who cares if few people would see it. It made him look awesome.

---

His hated being on the plane, not because of any fear of flying, but they still haven't made a plane big enough for Bjorn to be comfy on. Despite his unease, the op seemed to be going well. Bjorn just sat, waited, and prayed to Odin that he fight valorously and without mercy.

An OST?

Imran looked over at the wheel, already checking the pedals as he then heard over the radio that Antoine and Howard were in.
"Affirmative. Antoine, recommend you keep your profile still low, and see if you can maybe sabotage whatever else you see- any armored vehicles or if you see any armored troops that you think might be an issue, deal with. Howard, get ready to eliminate the towers on my mark. You'll start the fire, we'll keep it burning, understood?" Imran said, as Svetlana moved over in her seat, looking to Imran, as she looked at her GMG, then behind her to see Bjorn readying up his M134. They were going to be heavy hitters tonight- and really force a dent into the enemy, Svetlana thought to herself.
"Well then. We're good to go. Jumpmaster, got us an LZ?" Imran said, looking over as one of the technicians in the C17 walked over to Imran's C17, an flight helmet over his face and overalls making him just some indescript airman of sorts.
"Yeah, we got a clearing, you've got two minutes. Roads are bad to the site, the way you've got..." He said, as Imran laughed.
"Well, there's a good fucking reason we have these then, matey boy." Imran said, tapping the bonnet of the car, a smirk on his face as the jumpmaster knew what was going on. Before he walked away, Svetlana's eyes locked on his.
"Hey. Pack our chutes wrong this time, I swear to God, you'll see what dying by breasts really feels like. Let's just get that out of the way before this happens." Svetlana said, her accent and voicing enough to scare the man shitless, as he didn't want to think what was going to go on next if he replied. He moved on, and opening the back door again, Imran fired up the engine, the V8 roaring. The jumpmaster and his assistant undid the clamps tethering the DPV to the floor of the C17, but Imran knew that there was really only one way to do this. Revving the engine hard, the V8 thundering inside the enclosed space, he looked to the chute that was rigged up on the roof of the DPV above his head, and smirked. Accelerating hard, he hit the handbrake and did a 180 within the cargo bay, looking over to see Yumiko do the same as hers was untethered. The whole fucking thing shook as suddenly, at about 40mph, the buggy went flying out of the rear, the whole weight on the suspension lifted as they practically sailed out of the back of the C17.

Yumiko's must have followed, Imran guessed, as for ten sweet seconds, the wheels were spinning and they were airborne. But falling. Rapidly. The chute above the DPV roared open, as they were violently jerked backwards, the engine revving hard as Imran calmed down the revs. The chute bubbled open, as Svetlana chuckled, already cocking the GMG.
"Haha! Nice!" She simply said, as she looked over the edge of her seat, the DPV now under a parachute. They weren't that high, but none the less, the view through Imran's night vision goggles was lit up with the compound and the moonlight that illuminated partly the two falling DPVs. The noise of groundfire interupted that, as Imran heard it from below. They were closing in now, and Imran didn't want to think of what exactly it was. He reached for his M32, but Svetlana physically stopped his arm, a smug look on her face like she said "I know what I'm doing", as she raised her GMG. Almost standing up, the balance of the DPV shaking as her weight was so large, she fired round after round below, as the enemies fell, the small patrol then quashed under a set of 40mm. A lone man with an AN-94 ran out, and was directly under the DPV, firing rounds into it's reinforced underside, as he then didn't realize what was coming. The man may have worn fairly advanced body armor, from a helmet to a vest, pads to a good pair of gloves, but he didn't stand a chance at what came down on him. Quite literally, the winds favoured Svetlana and Imran, as they drifted right to him, Imran already cutting the chute as he revved the engine and the wheels span madly in mid air. The rest was simple, as the DPV fell hard the last 20ft, and splatted the man, the DPV kicking up mud as Imran smirked, spinning around as he checked the GPS on the front bullbar.

"Raven and Black Eagle are on the floor, we're moving out to assault it- Howard, open up!" Imran said, as Svetlana looked over, the patrol completely wiped out as the other DPV came in, the jungle path poor and muddy as hell. But for the DPV, it was go time, and it weighed little to nothing with a huge amount of power and mean tyres that kicked up mud and dirt behind, Imran flooring it over a metal bridge as he shifted up, the headlights and NVGs combining to light the route up ahead brightly.
"Right over there, looks like a checkpoint!" Imran said, as Svetlana simply fired a whole set of 40mm grenades, the men firing off rounds at the DPV that ricocheted all over, but did little. Imran just kept on the gas and floored it through the checkpoint's barrier, the tower coming down as Svetlana kept up the 40mm fire, cackling as they closed on the facility. A large stream came up and Imran wasn't even letting his foot off the gas, as he kicked up a massive splash as he floored the DPV through it, aware that Yumiko and Bjorn were close behind and dealing with any other threats. The facility was far closer, and Imran kept up the pace, as the DPV rocked out of the stream, and he realized that there was really only one way in from the perspective they were taking. A dirt embankment went over a concrete wall, and apart from assaulting front on, Imran just hoped he had enough speed, as he looked at Yumiko and Bjorn in the other one, a thought on his mind.
"Just follow us, and hang the fuck on!" He yelled over the comms, as the DPV surged forward in the thin track, Imran not letting up. He was going about 70mph when he hit the steep embankment, and shit really hit the fan.

The DPV flew over the concrete outer perimeter of the base, and slammed into the floor hard as it flew in almost on it's back, the suspention rocking the entire thing forward as Imran let Svetlana keep up heavy suppressing fire, as he stopped behind a lorry of some sorts, skidding to a halt and coughing a little.
"Holy shit...that was something." Svetlana said, aware she hadn't spoken in a while, as she took her boonie hat off, and slid her helmet on her head, putting the NVGs down as the HUD activated. The heavy was out of the vehicle as bullets slammed into the container, and she saw the other DPV sail in, under fire but now going to get some serious cover. She walked from around the truck, and feeling bullets hit, opened up with the 40mm, Imran moving from cover to cover as he supressed some enemies with his Mk48. But Svetlana, for the moment, was doing a lot more significant damage than the Sikh, and taking far more of it, the troops in the compound outside the facility confused as to why this 7"6 giant wasn't going down when fired upon- the 40mm rounds giving cover, as she knew she'd be flanked soon.
"Antoine, see if you can cut off any forces from going in deeper into the complex- we've got anyone that's up here. If you see someone running with any nerve toxins, do not shoot them- or else we'll all be dead, Svetlana and Bjorn included, if that shit is toxic enough. Understood?" Imran simply said, as he looked over, giving cover fire with his Mk48, casually then jumping over cover and sprinting with his enhanced strength to another container, where he flung himself into cover, already firing by the side of it.

Howard got to his firing position, pulling his Lynx M6 AMR off his back, carefully, quietly he slipped into a firing position. The bipod extended, the cap off the ends of the scope. He took a moment, wiggled a little, and virtually disappeared against the mossy stones. He used part of his ghille to hide the top of his rifle, making sure no light hitting it caused any gleam or reflection. The honeycomb filter on the front lens of his scope broke up the blackhole that would be formed by the scope. All other things around him vanished, he could hear the team coms going off in his ear, but he didn't care at the moment. He'd entered the Zone. He set cheek to pad on the butt of the rifle, eye to scope. He quickly flicked his reticle from tower to tower, mentally doing calculations and estimates. He wasn't too far out of the compound, he'd barely have to adjust for any of the shots. Though the furthest tower from him would be a slight trick shot. The angle on it was such that he'd either have to shoot through a support on the tower, or go for a center-mass hold rather ten a head shot.

None the less he scanned the rest of the compound quickly, picking some choice secondary targets.

He waited, and at one point spotting Antoine slip into the building. He felt proud he was able to actually make the infiltrator for once. But the spot was so quick anyone else would have counted it as a trick of the light.

He settled all the way in. He paid no heed to a scorpion that crawled by him, or the massive tarantula that rested on his head for almost a full minute before it crawled off. He'd had ants scout a patrol across him in the past, felt mandibles bite into him, all manner beats step on him, these little creepy crawlies were nothing. He waited, and vaguely heard Imran in his earbud, "...Howard, open up!" He whispered into his mic, "Lasanga...going loud."

The land around the compound and the compound itself was as quiet as a night in the rainforest could get. No one saw anything really wrong. Nothing was amiss. The tower sentries watched their arches. And then, four mighty booms, like thunder, but without the lightning, roared into the night. Birds and beasts for almost 4 miles in every direction bolted. Four rounds from the semi-automatic heavy AMR spat out. Two rounds in the air at the same time at one point. Four sentries hit the floors of their tower roosts moments later. Three missing heads, one with a round that left a cantaloupe sized hole right in the center of his chest. He flicked his rifle sight over, watching the two DPVs arrive on scene. Then flipping over to get a bead on some of the first responders. He had six shots remaining in the ten shot clip of his rifle. And four more clips besides. He took out six more baddies.

The sound around him came back as his connection to the zone faded. He looked about then began to pack up, "Lasanga displacing, moving to alternate firing position. I'll cover the front door." He caught the empty clip as it fell free, sliding it into a pouch and sliding a full one into place, ten more rounds to do even more damage. He slid down off the out cropping an made for another position he had seen. He ghosted back into the foliage. He wasn't as good as Antoine, but he was still damn good none the less.

Antoine was a ghost whenever she wanted to be, and that was right now. As she heard Imran provide new target priorities before his drop, she didn't acknowledge but instead simply slunk through to the garage. She was even briefly impressed as she saw a man briefly squint into the darkness, as if searching. It seemed he'd seen her, but she was it was disappointing when it was revealed that he'd just seen an abnormally large mosquito. For a moment, Antoine had hoped that she'd found a worthy foe, but that was quickly dashed. That done, she slid into the hangar with ease and sized it up, surprised to find a pair of mech suits similar to the ones worn by Bjorn and Lana. She hadn't actually expected their foe to have this much gear.

8 Techs surrounded the suits, however since they would be going loud soon, Antoine decided it was time for the gun. Drawing the MP5SD6, She lined up carefully, and in her mind angles, bullet drop, recoil, everything was accounted for. Then, she let rip in short, 3 round bursts, gunning down the tech crew in a matter of moments. She immediately reloaded the gun before putting it back on her webbing. She darted over to the suits and drew a pair of charges, situating them in out of the way spots inside the suits, so that the explosions would still devastate the armor and the people inside it.

Then, she turned her eyes to the rest of the bay, and found a pair of BTRs and a Russian-made T-90 Main Battle Tank. These people were packing a lot of heavy armor, however that didn't matter to Antoine. "This will be fun to watch." Antoine thought to herself as she slid, catlike, into the tank and dropped a demo charge into the pile of shells. Similar charges were placed on the engine blocks of both BTRs, but now she was out of explosives, so she had to leave. Snaking out, she heard the sound of Imran and Yumi's vehicles landing. Shortly after, she was ordered to prevent forces from going deeper into the complex, and she said softly "Aye Aye sir."

Sneaking into the complex proper was easy with so many people distracted by Imran's less than discrete entrance. Once inside, she set up choke-points at two key areas, the stairs and the elevator. Though she lacked any explosives, it would be easy to prevent people from entering or leaving the compound. Entering the elevator, she used her Camilius to pry off the cover over the buttons and promptly made 4 slashes on the interior, ruining the elevator so it couldn't be used. Then, she calmly settled in a dark corner of the stairwell, silenced P226 in one hand and a throwing knife in the other. Like a vengeful spectre, Antoine was ready to kill all the living who dared approach her.

The DPV came to a stop and Bjorn moved as quickly as his giant frame would allow. He was much happier on the ground than in the airplane over here, but no one likes getting shot at. He unslung his Minigun and pulled the trigger, letting it roar to life. 6,000 rounds a minute laid waste to the targets in front of him and men either ducked for cover or were cut in half. He heard Imran say something on the radio, something about nerve toxins, but Bjorn didn't see and toxins, so he kept shooting.

He felt something snap in his mind. It suddenly felt like his mini gun wasn't working. It was just a lump of metal in his hands. Useless, and pathetic. He threw it to the ground. He had to find a real weapon. Something heavy.... and sharp. Then he remembered the axe at his side. He pulled it from his loop. That's better... he thought. He felt his blood rising and he rushed into battle, swinging his axe like... well, a viking.

Imran looked over at Yumiko and Bjorn, who had disembarked form theirs, himself proving LMG fire downrange as he shifted over a metal barrier, the Sikh soldier moving with a pace as he kept up fire. Svetlana tanked her way though, already moving as she kept up GMG fire, destroying a pair of SUVs that slid into the area, sending them up as she then watched Bjorn gun down a set of enemies, mulilating htem into pieces. Then he snapped. Svetlana had seen it before- he had lost his head, he felt not powerful enough. She felt scared herself even, as she watched it unfold. She saw him move forwards, moving far quicker as the giant Nordic Axe in his hand looked more like a club than a sharpened waraxe, due to it's size. But to Bjorn, it had to be just a normal cutting device.
"Bjorn, I got your back! Don't expose your rucksack on your rear, or else you'll go boom if they start chucking heavy fire at it!" Svetlana said, as she sprayed GMG fire, looking to Imran and Yumiko.
"Move in, you two- I will deal with the situation out here! There're flooding now!" Svetlana said, feeling the sweat kick up on her body despite the full pelt of the cooling system, the midst of the rainforest a hot and unbearing place none the less. She looked over to a man that charged out of cover, armed with an RPG, and fired it, Svetlana diving onto her back as it barely flew past, and she smirked, watching as it flew over and she propped herself back up. She let the GMG loose by her side, as she pulled out her oversized Machete, similar to his axe, but perhaps...sharper bladed. She simply didn't come close with it, she flung the whole thing at him, and jumping out of the way, even with the relatively light gear compared to Svetlana. Because even though she had that level of equipment and had that sheer size, she was no slouch to things such as that. The machete practically bowled through half of the man's face, as she smirked under her helmet, moving quickly to retrieve the machete, whilst under fire. It had some material on it, but it would be cleanable, she reminded herself, as she raised the GMG, and kept up some more fire, taking out a machine gun tower and a pair of technicals, spraying 40mm round like it was rain.

To Imran however, this was scary as hell. Watching Svetlana take sniper shots from one of the roofs of the main facility was a little scary, but he knew she had this under control, the matt black armor doing fine- and Bjorn, doing his bloodlusted, mad thing, was taking just about as much fire. To them however, it was nothing- they were Heavies, and it just pinged off them, and in some way, Imran knew that was their thing.
"Yumiko, cover our rear from anything- Bjorn, Svetlana, keep handling any contacts out here. I'll head in and check if the shit's secure." Imran said, already pulling out his M32 as covering fire for the Japanese member of the squad, running fast as he moved from cover to cover, his exoskeleton giving him that extra speed and momentum to practically slide himself into the building. He watched as the noise of the

The corridor had a few contacts, and though an M32 was a bit bulky for the indoors, he had this under control. He sprayed the rounds downrange, the six rounds detonating at the end of the corridor and taking a small squad out, as they were blown apart by the rounds, Imran sliding the M32 onto his back again as he moved through with the Mk48, moving slowly and aiming down the iron sights whenever he could, to scan his sectors and the concrete corridor. He popped one with a single round that ran around the corner, as he was thrown back.
"Okay Antoine, I think your mines can be good to be blown up now- before somebody jumps into anything that they have. I'll take care of the rest of this area above ground- go down and see what else there is in terms of how far they breached it. I'll handle this floor." Imran said, as he moved slowly upwards, scanning his sectors.

Two men ran into the vehicle pool, cursing when they saw the bodies. They were the armored suit operators- and the exoskeleton whirred, as they jumped into the two large armors, roughly 8 foot tall in size, with a set of dead technicians. They checked each others weapons, before rushing out, the loud mechanical clanking on the concrete floor engaging as they moved out, aware they had to defend their perimiter. And yet they had little idea that they were sitting on what equated to basically, an armored pair of suits that were rigged up with explosives in key places. As they headed out, their GAU-19 miniguns in both hands as well as rocket tubes on back, they felt confident they could take on the team of enemies. They had little idea, as they headed out into the open compound, that their moments of power, the two giant mechanized armor suits were toast.

Howard lopped through the rainforest, moving smoothly and dead silently. He ghosted over an army ant marching line, hurdled stand of bushes. In one motion he drew his axes, then spring-boarded off a bit of dead fall, he sailed over one of the paths leading into the compound, his arms wheeling, then grunting as one of the axe heads bit into the bark of a tree. He hung there for a time, then began to climb the tree to a lower branch, he had seen this position when he had been coming into his first firing position. It overhung the wall by just a bit. Letting him get a top shot on anything on the ground. It didn't make for a good rifle position, but he had other options. He put his tomahawks away, clipping the fast releases closed. He then reached down, to his left thigh. There he grabbed a coke bottled sized mass of metal. With a shake of his hand the metal mass flipped, and opened, a length of wire snapping taut between the long arms of a combat bow. He took a moment to adjust the sight on it. Then with a few short presses of buttons on the grip the quiver on his back, that rested between the carbine and rifle on his back, cycled abit, whirring very softly then clicking.

Howard reached back and drew the arrow. Tipped with a High Explosive arrow head, with the detonation power of a hand grenade in a nice large ball marble. He perched on the branch scanning the courtyard when a large garage door opened. The first thing he saw was about eight soldiers running out and into the jungle. Then, out from the door followed the two powered suits. He grinned, depressing the buttons again, his quiver whirring again. He then nocked the first arrow. Taking aim, whispering into his mic, "Lasanga has eyes on our two heavies. Bluebird are they rigged? Imran, what do you say? I have an HE arrow knocked and a second arrow ready. I can knock out these two behemoths in a matter of seconds." He keeps the arrow nocked, not quite drawn back yet.

He takes a moment raising the bow, but not drawing, "We also had about eight runners take off into the jungle. Depending on orders I might have to go on a stalk. What do you say? Who goes first?" He took a breath, then with one motion, lowered then raised the bow again, this time drawing the drawstring back to just beside his cheek. He had a perfect bead on one of the charges on the lead suit. All it would take is a single motion then a split second to renock and redraw to get the other suit. But he didn't want to over step his mission parameters right now.