As the deep blue of the ocean gave way to the emerald green of the shallows, Sam watched the boats and coral reefs sweep by below. Five years ago, before the weapon now in his armpit holster had changed his life and made him grow up, he probably would have passed a trip this long with his face buried in his phone, even one as beautiful as a low-altitude flight over the Gulf of Thailand. Probably would have been reading some generic webcomic or arguing with strangers online about proper anime watch orders. He cringed a little, internally. Feeling a little introspective, he wondered if self-indulgent, time-wasting behavior like that emerged out of a lack of gratitude. He knew for certain that he hadn't shown his parents the gratitude they deserved for the comfortable life he got from them. Running missions and living rough over the past few years had really drilled that into him.
As he looked around the interior of the helicopter, he came out of his little reverie and noticed one of the Obsidian backup operators - all non-Masters, just normal soliders - fidgeting a little. A younger man, Filipino. He seemed to remember from the briefing him being new to the team. Unbuckling and shifting over to the other side of the aircraft, he sat down next to him. "Howya feelin'?" Sam's Filipino wasn't as good as his English, but it seemed to be appreciated, since the young man answered honestly instead of putting up a machismo front. "I'm just a little nervous, haha. And that..." He paused, and looked at the floor; his tone dropped. "... and that seems stupid, since nothing's really happened yet." Sam placed a reassuring hand on the shoulder, managing to rest a pinky and ring finger on the skin of the neck. He began lowering the man's adrenaline and cortizol as he said, "Nah, that's pretty much universal. After all, when something's happening, then you can focus on that and do something about it. When nothing's happening, but you know it might go ass-up at any moment, that's scary, cuz' you can't do anything about it. That's why a lot of the guys here smoke in their downtime - hell, I'd be smoking right now if not for being in the helicopter." He pulled a Kretek out of a pocket in his grey jumpsuit and wagged it around to illustrate the point. The young soldier exhaled and relaxed a little, it seems Sam's words - and discreet hormone adjustment - had their intended effect.
His headphones crackled, and the pilot spoke: "We're approaching Kampong Som now; ETA to Phnom Penh, two hours."