The mercenary business was ruthless, unforgiving. Zhao knew this, and kept on his contracts. A benefit to working for Pale Horse, at least for him, was that they were honest about this. No comfy meeting halls, no fancy helicopter rides. “Here’s your job, now go do it.” It was so simple.
As usual, as he neared the meeting ground for the Pale Horse mercs, the place was abuzz with friendly chatter and intense brooding alike. Although he was more of a loner, he knew the importance of having a team. From pulling off tactical maneuvers to just being great bullet-shields, a team could do so much more than a single soldier. However, with more people came more mistakes. And a mistake in this environment could cost lives; Not that Pale Horse or the CDA actually cared that much about lives lost, as each death meant one less paycheck to pay. On a personal and moral level, though he was a mercenary, he did care about his fellow human beings. As long as they were on his side.
As he scanned the surrounding mercs, he looked for any that caught his eye. One did, mostly because he looked like a human rucksack with all the gear he carried. He wore a standard baklava topped with tinted ballistic goggles. He did not look like the stealth type. Supporting fire, probably. Good, Zhao wasn’t much one for sneaking around. Walking up to the lone man, Zhao gestured to him with his shotgun.
“I’m good for breaching doors. You look good for firefights. Want to form a fireteam?”