Come March 22nd, a day in which a dark cloud would shadow over those caught in the moment of tyranny and demise. The skies were lit up with millions of stars turning a blind eye to the cruelty down within the City, where its walls stood highly away from the slums and hiding the creature that was November inside. A decades worth of innocent lives had been wasted, thrown into the pits of devastation, whilst his works and betrayals were swept beneath the rug. Even when drowsed in ultimate secrecy, the DPS and ISU were not invulnerable to their own unrecognised covert operations against them. It came as a surprise. First in the form of a bomb threat, killing 58 civilians within a concentrated blast-radius, and then a few masked gunmen storming a governmental embassy in Southeastern Asia, more and more attacks worldwide were starting to spark. However, a pattern was noticed when the DPS were called by NATO into interpol-regulations for investigation. A City, located in the same regions of Southeastern Asia targeted at the start of the chain, was undergoing referendums to abandon its confines or raise huge defences around its perimeters. It sunk into chaos, and when more and more attacks provoked the city to break into anarchy, something that the local army were beckoned by NATO not to approach, the ISU were called into investigating what was available. And it wasn't long from there when all the traces, documentations, leaked information folders and what-not were trailed back to their very own man, Alfred Mawdsley. November.
Jean sat, leaning his back against the RHIB-Boat's soft circumference. It was padded from the pressure built inside to assist in its buoyancy and for the lengthened journey they'd spent cruising up-stream, it was something of a blissful circumstance to hold. Its motor was running on a low power, making it have just enough momentum to push through the oncoming stream but not enough to raise great audible hints to their approach. It was dangerous territory that they were now being led into, under strict orders from their superiors in both the ISU and DPS. NATO were chalked out of the question, knowing that this was a personal mission that only the ISU would be capable of handling. They trained him, grew him into what he was today, and knowing that it meant that the Operators of the ISU were responsible for his messes and needed to make amends to his treason. It would be the first major attempt for them to come into contact with November in about a year. The abandoned wastes of this city were to be turned inside out if it meant finding and killing him. Now, as the night sky glistened above them, the two boats continued to cruise down the enclosed waters gently at a time.
He thought deeply; thinking about the years he spent preparing for a moment like this, a true mission, made him somewhat anxious and excited. To test his father's dreams and prove them right was something of a one-time shot. To no longer exist in the public eye felt somewhat thrilling as well as daunting. Time was only going to tell whether or not he would prove those desires truly.
To his right, holding the controlled rudder to the RHIB boat was a member of the ISU he had temporarily known from his initiation into this Squad. Spartan, as her callsign went by, was equally as new into the ISU as he was. Records stated that she, a wonderful woman from Canada, had served her country proudly in the civil and somewhat militarised services, taking apart criminal organisations in her years of service. It came across in his head that maybe that pathway would have been better for Jean, taking the French-Armed Police route to ensure he had enough experience under his belt before signing up to the ISU. However, the two were relatively at even-grounds from what he could tell. She had experience, though not nearly as big as Operation: Resonance was to be, whilst Jean himself held the specialised training that the GIGN taught him. Operation: Guillotine was his only show of experience and did prove some levels of competence in high-risk, low-reward objectives. But as far as her records went, it somewhat brought a strange sensation into Jean's mind. She was of confidence, it seemed, from her exterior aura and that in itself comforted him deep down. Though as an Operator of the ISU, he would never confirm such thoughts aloud. Instead, he held a low whisper and turned to her, breaking the silence only slightly.
"I don't like this..." He held a somewhat anxious, though not timid, tone to his vocals. "I don't feel sheltered sitting atop this boat. Even if this is the only way of getting in unseen, it just reeks of danger and anxiety around every meander. Anti-air? Possible patrols? This November guy really seems to be kitted out, like this city is his own private fortress. You really think it'll be as simple as to get in, put a projectile in his skull and leave just like that?"
Jean knew that the question was quite disturbing and uneasy to hear right as the mission was set to go, but he had to get the mind of her out into the world. What were they expected to do? First they had to find the man before killing him, making sure no trace led back to them. Even with as much experience in these kinds of missions as Jean was himself, it was possible that the calm, collected mind of Spartan were exercising some great inspirational words. He didn't know her name, only her callsign, as she did for him. It was the same for the other three, sitting comfortably in their own RHIB boat only a few metres to their left, slightly drifting ahead. Their squad-leader, Prophet, was known for his prowess and experience, but some said that his name and age reeked of retirement in the coming months. Maybe his awareness wasn't as good as it used to be, but here he was, undertaking a personal revenge mission against a man he grew up working with. Apparently the two were close, to make matters worse. On top of that, there were Buffalo and Tombstone, both American soldiers who'd been under Prophet's command for long enough to know his shenanigans. Why these two rookies were out here with the best the ISU seemingly had to offer baffled him. Perhaps it was a way to ultimately test their will, but that could feel too costly and expensive to potentially waste two promising Operators. Either way, it confused and worried him equally.
Sitting tightly in his BDU, Jean let out a weakened smile to Spartan, though she probably didn't notice it with the lack of light present in that time. He hoped it was going to all go to plan, something that would ultimately make him feel wanted within the ISU. Maybe this Spartan could take care of him more than the other squad-mates could, knowing they were both in similar situations. Time could only tell, and little did Jean know there was an invisible timer waiting to go off.
