TomClancy thread. :(Closed - Starting,)

[The Zango]

Drake wiped the sweat that had gathered on his brow away with his towel and started some warmdowns. While he stretched and flexed he mulled over the perculiar OP he had been assigned to.

SC's meeting grunts?

Three Cells in the field?

A Cell leading from the front?

Things were fucked up for sure and either old Fisher had gone bat-shit crazy or he had something spectacular lined up for them. Drake didn't think the latter possibility carried much weight however and besides the thought of the former made him chuckle.

He replaced his black tee-shirt and exited the gym into the commons.

What to do? He didn't have much interest in socialising, shooting on the range was appealing but he decided to give it a miss.

Too much training in one day, makes Drake a pent up cauldron of testosterone (though the difference that manifested was negligible)

Hmm, they were a short distance away from Odenton and he had his cell phone with him, the number of which was almost certainly logged with the higher-ups and so they could contact him if needed. Yeah he liked the idea, head out to Odenton, hit a bar or two, pick up some ladies, that sort of thing.

He finally came to the bottom of the stairs, a plan for the eve's entertainment drawn out in his head and he was congratulating himself on its efficiency until he realised Grim sitting with Sam and one of the Ghosts in the main area.

'Ok, what the FUCK is happening? Something is really not right, why the hell is she here?'

He entered the main room and took a seat not to far away from the main body of people in the area.

"Hello miss G, have you come to explain this whole sordid mess out to us?"

 

[Anah'ya]

"Either way," Cheryl pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'll be back inside."

With that she left Stenrow at the range. Maybe she should just corner Fisher and pepper him with questions until he either threw her out, or told her what she wanted to know. She didn't think she'd be able to give it a rest until then, so better just get it out of the way.
Having set her mind, Cheryl first checked his office, noted it to empty, and then followed the voices from the commons.

Finding Grimsdottir there certainly qualified as surprise.

Said surprise then did a short tango with suspicion, which Cheryl promptly kicked back into the murky depths of her overly analytical mind. She looked between the familiar faces, Drake included, and settled herself against the wall next to the door.

"Boss. Didn't fancy a ride in my car?"

 

[Jav3lin]

Sam had decided to practice his aim further and set up shop with his lasor pointint straight at the dummy's limping head.

Breathe... let it come to you.... let the sights fall into....plac-
The shot rang out with a quiet clap and the followed by another.

--

Upon arriving at the bullet's destination he noted that the first shot had pierced the dummy's throat and the other just nicked it's head and landed in the wodden table next to it.
I need to practice my follow-ups

 

[capin Rob]

To Cheryl's question, Grim said. "I didn't know that I was going to come here, but as you know. The Secretary of Defense wants fisher to go in with you. So I told them that I would come here and stay in contact with a few high ups in the military and give you your orders once your in the AO."

 

[The Zango]

'The Secretary of Defence, of course. Who else but that suit could make such bloated, ill-informed decisions as that?'

Drake chuckled and lit a cigarette, the situation just kept getting better and better. He half expected for the Ghosts to be flying planes and the HAWX to begin discussing CQB room-clearance techniques.

He shot a look to Cheryl that basically summed up his feelings on the whole OP.

What the fuck?

 

[Anah'ya]

"Very well, Ma'am."

Having Grimsdottir in direct command of them should have been encouraging, yet Cheryl didn't manage to brush aside the nagging at the back of her skull. But at least she wasn't the only one. Judging by the look Drake was giving her he seemed to share her opinion.

She allowed herself a lopsided smile and shrugged at him.

Hell if I know, might have been the appropriate answer.

 

[capin Rob]

"Grim will stay with you in the Barracks, she will arrange clothes to be brought to you. Any questions?" Fisher said

 

[Anah'ya]

"Ma'am, do I have to worry about job security if you're doing my work?"

Cheryl flashed Grimsdottir a friendly smile.

 

[Xero Scythe]

Damien sighed. "Alright, I've got one: how the hell are terrorists of all people gathering enough funds to warrant Splinter Cells, Ghost, and HAWX? Not even the old Al Queda at its peak could gather enough funds for that. I don't even think we used a single Spooky on them."

 

[capin Rob]

Grim said to Cheryl. "Don't worry, I'm just haveing the clohes brought here, I'm not going to get them. you'll do field running, I'll be here, walking all of you through what you have to do."

Fisher said to Damien. "We don't know how they're getting founding, the CIA couldn't find a thing. and 3E couldn't either thats why we're gong in to find out."

 

[Jedoro]

"Well," Black commented, bearing a plate of his cookies, "as long as someone I trust gives me a target to shoot, I'm happy." Leaning against a nearby wall, he continued munching as he waited for another mention of their weapons.

 

[capin Rob]

"Well, I'll be in my office, And Girm. Play nice ." Fisher wnet out to his office and sat down with the dufflebag of gear.

 

[Anah'ya]

Cheryl tilted her head towards Black.

"So what's your speciality? 'side from baking--" she craned her neck to get a good look. Her right eyebrow came up "--cookies."

 

[Jedoro]

Not wanting to appear rude, he finished his current cookie before answering.

"I'm a sniper, ma'am," Black began. "I prefer an M21 but I don't mind going to the fifty for those guys who are a little farther. If anyone gets too close, well... you saw that shotgun I brought in. Worst case, I keep this bad boy on my hip as a last resort. My last commander didn't let me carry a combat knife no more, long story."

 

[Anah'ya]

"Caught you running with it?"

Cheryl smirked at Black--all in good humour.

 

[The Zango]

Drake lay on his bunk and stared at he ceiling. He'd silently stormed off during the 'meeting' earlier.

'What the fuck is going on?! Is there any direction at all?'

He was not used to this, his OP's were usually clear cut and simple.

Go here, kill him ,blow up the ship and bail.

Mission complete.

No meeting the CO. No being put in charge of another Cell! No having that command taken away just as it settles in!

He sat up and his legs dangled over the edge of the bunk. If shit got any worse he'd bail, no question. He had papers and an identity set up elsewhere for just the occasion. Sure it would mean abandoning his country but if his country was giving such fucked up orders, then they could go hang for all he cared.

 

[capin Rob]

Fisher sat down in his office ad sighed, then he turned on the TV. "This Op. Is fucked." Fisher said, he opened the duffle bag.

His 5.7 pistol with the OCP disruptor. 3 wall mines, 3 flash grenades, 3 smokes, 2 frags. The SC20k, launcher, 5 sticky cams, 5 sticky shockers, 3 air foil rounds, 2 cotton ball tranqulizers, and 2 gas grenages. The filnal pieces, his goggles and suit from before the scandal.

 

[Jedoro]

"Oh I've run with it plenty of times, mostly out in the field though," Black began, thinking back to a few missions. "Guys like to run when they see a big bush charge them with a knife. Anyway, we was out on an op and it was my turn to sleep, and I slept with it in my hand. Well, some jackass decided to surprise me to wake me up, and I thought we was being attacked, so I almost killed him." Picking up another cookie, he turned it sideways and held it up.

"That much more to the left, and he woulda died." Letting the memory fade, he took a bite from the cookie and gently extended the plate to offer her one. "Chocolate chip?"

 

[CloggedDonkey]

Mike left the room and went to the firing range. "*Sigh*, I guess I might as well train a little." He looked around and found a table with several weapons on it. He picked out an M4. "Good ol' M4. Nothing like it." He said as he set himself up at the range. He took five shots, all of them hitting in a five millimeter square. And that's why we're the best. He continued to fire until he had fired the entire clip, then switched to another weapon. He did this over and over until he had gone through all of them, then circled back to the M4.

 

[Anah'ya]

The image of a bush wildly charging while brandishing a combat knife would probably be staying with Cheryl for a while now.

She offered Black a soft smile as he told her about what had really happened. "He was lucky then. And gracias, that's most kind."

The field runner walked up to him and picked up one of the treats.

"Delicious," she admitted after a while and inclined her head politely at the chef.

Then she looked around the room, looked at Grimsdottir more than anyone, before deciding to leave. She wasn't the type to linger about and socializing, despite the cookies.

"Ma'am, if you need me for anything, I'll be at the barracks."