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The constant buzz of a busy office filled the ears of B.S.A.A. member, Chris Redfield. People were squawking about as they rushed through a crowded office. Reports were piling in of latest B.O.W attacks and extremists causing outbreaks within the city walls. It was no different back home in the states as it was here in Italy. Although Rome had been one of the first places to lockdown, there were still leaks into the city streets that were dealt with quickly. Chris sighed as he grabbed a piece of paper, adjusting the light so he could read the contents. It was information on a potential candidate for a covert mission. The subject in question was a man by the name of Ezrael Hawke.

He specialized in sniping and had a few years’ worth of marine experience, something that could come in handy for this particular mission. His sniping skills at least. There was another: Dmitri Yanukovich. Another B.S.A.A. member stationed nearby. He wasn’t anything special, but his KGB training and VDV training might prove useful. Farah, his daughter, would also be attending this group. She specialized in discreet kills, much like Ezrael’s sniping skills, but her talent was nothing compared to the older man’s training. Liam, his nephew, would also be a part of the group. The boy just didn’t know when to give up, but he had potential. A particular file in hand brought a slight wave of relief over Chris.

It was the file of Jason Greaves. The man had experience and would make a great leader for the squad. In a way, Jason reminded Chris of himself back when he was younger. Chris knew should something happen, the group would be in capable hands if Jason was leading them. Then, there was Sarah Reich. A woman capable of being calm and direct. Although she had little years in the B.S.A.A., she came to Chris highly recommended. He knew she would be an addition to the team that would prove to be valuable should something happen to Jason.

He would assemble the team he thought would do the job right the first time. And with the people in mind, he reached for his phone and dialed a number. His secretary would take care of all the remaining details as he glanced over a particular file: Aaron Muller, son of deceased operative Jake Muller and Sherry Birkin. He was the only lead that they had at finding the subject, but something didn’t seem right to Chris. Then again, at sixty-seven years old, not much would seem right with him after the years of Bioterrorism. He sighed, running a hand through his grayed hair and sat back, hands folded beneath his chin as he stared at his lamp.

---

Farah Redfield

The cool breeze felt nice against the hot skin of Farah Redfield. The humidity was driving her crazy as she stepped lightly through the foliage. She didn’t want to draw noise to her group as various B.O.W.s roamed the streets that was once Guangxi. Mainly, it was its previous inhabitants that roamed around, moaning a serenade into the night as they sauntered for flesh. Her current mission was to eliminate the cause of the organic weapons manufacturer. It would be nice for the small city to be sterilized again and create homes, safe homes for its inhabitants that were still alive.

Before she knew it, the mission had been a complete failure and she was on a plane to Rome. Chris Redfield requested the presence of six people, including herself and her cousin, for a covert mission. She sighed, running a hand across the newly acquired scar as she thought of her mission. Her entire group failed to kill one man, and since he escaped, she lost two of her teammates: Jakob Newman and Zhou Wei. The two were still grunts, new to the B.S.A.A., and she failed to keep them safe. She promised them that the mission would be easy, that their target was small and insignificant. She was wrong.

Liam Redfield

A smirk adorned the face of Liam Redfield. He was in the midst of a gun fight with the J’avo, his favorite as he’d called them. He pulled his pistol close to his chest before blind firing above him, catching a few on the shoulder and caused one to spark into flames before becoming encased in a cocoon like substance. He cursed to himself before throwing a hand grenade over his shoulder. It was a smoke grenade, allowing himself the camouflage he needed to escape. He jolted down the hill slope and cursed as his foot got caught in a crate. He tried to shake it loose before he dodged the oncoming knife attack from a J’avo. He twisted the holder’s arm and brought his gun up to the J’avo’s head before releasing a few rounds into its thick skull.

“Sorry guy’s, as much as I’d like to stay and chat,” Liam began as his phone vibrated. He glanced at the message and smiled. “But apparently duty calls me elsewhere,” he finished as he released a few rounds before tossing another grenade into the midst. With the distraction, Liam managed to withdraw from Thüringen and was now on a flight to Rome. It wasn’t long before his flight landed and he made his way towards the B.S.A.A. headquarters, searching for his uncle as he did so, however; a flesh of golden brown hair captured his attention.

“Anyword from your old man Farah?” he stated as he patted his cousin on the shoulder, only to have his arm twisted behind his back in a painful manner. “Ow, what was that for?!” he nearly shouted as he rubbed his shoulder. Farah merely shrugged.

“Don’t you read your messages,” she retorted as she made her way through the building, trying to find her father’s office. It wasn’t long before she did and the secretary (she couldn’t remember her name) ushered Liam and Farah, along with five other people, into the small office.

---

“Sir,” a voice snapped Chris out of his stupor as he turned his attention to the source. The woman stood at his door, papers in hand as she pushed up her glasses. “They’re here,” were the only words Chris needed to hear as he stood, nodding his head as he acknowledged her declaration. He motioned for her to send the group in. As soon as he did the briefing, the sooner the mission could begin. What exactly it was that made the subject they were after so special to Umbrella, remains a mystery. It couldn’t be because of her relation to Albert Wesker, or her father, Jake Muller. Or could it? So many questions were racking his brain that he failed to notice his group appear inside his office.

“ I don’t want to have to do this, Old Man!” Bruce McFadden said as he bounced around the ring.

“Let’s just get started." Was the only response given by Jason Greaves.

“I really don’t want to embarrass you in front of all these people!” Bruce said as he bounced off the ropes, playing to the crowd. Their little sparring match had attracted some attention, and amateur bookies. The gambling was divided along generational lines the older operatives choosing Greaves while the younger ones went with McFadden, McFadden was so far undefeated in the London locker room as was Jason so a fight was always on the cards but there was no malice in it. The people just needed to know who was the best.

“It’s best to leave the mind games to someone with one.” Jason said not taking his eyes off Bruce’s gloved hands.

“That’s the spirit.” Bruce said as a smile crept across his face and he bounced on his toes.

Both men were standing in a boxing ring in a corner of the BSAA London Branch Gym, wearing BSAA training gear and boxing equipment. Jason hated the stupid helmets management made them wear but it was all part of health and safety. It made him chuckle, they fought and killed BOWs for a living and the management was worried about a concussion? Typical BSAA, Bureaucratic Stupidly Assessment Alliance seemed more apt at times.

“Jesus Christ, ding ding already.” A voice from the crowd said which Bruce seemed to take as queue to start.

Jason brought his guard up while Bruce started swinging.

#

They’d been going for ten minutes and the kid was dropping bombs but lacked accuracy, apparently he’d used brute force on his previous opponents which will only get you so far. Jason may not have been as strong as he used to be but that had been traded for technique and sometimes that’s all that mattered.

A right hook came with a brutal intensity that was only matched by the left a second later but Jason’s block withstood the barrage. He knew there would be no tiring out the younger man though, he needed to end this and quickly as he could feel himself becoming fatigued.

A shot to his side made him flinch and instinctively drop his guard giving the kid an opening. Jason ducked and felt the gloved hand of his opponent pass inches by the top of his head. Seeing his opportunity Jason drove his right fist hard into the younger man’s torso winding him but not as much as Jason would have liked. Still it was enough give him the opening for a brutal uppercut. He felt Bruce’s pain and pressed the advantage. A wild haymaker followed by a couple of quick jabs prevented Bruce from regaining balance. The kid was strong on offence but from the way his eyes were dancing he had something of a glass jaw.

Inside the glove Jason clenched his fist all the harder and threw everything into one final uppercut that lifted Bruce off the ground slightly. He landed with a crash and for a few seconds there was silence.

Then Bruce’s foot gave a single twitch.

Two distinct roars erupted from the crowd, the younger members were shocked as their champion had been defeated by a man almost twice his age. The older members of the crowd sniggered as they collected their winnings from the younger operatives. Jason pulled off his gloves and went to help Bruce back to his feet.

“Good fight.” He said as he checked the man’s eyes.

Bruce was lagging behind a little though and tried to take a feeble swing that Jason swatted away.

“Calm down, fight’s over.”

“Who won?” Bruce groaned.

“You’re on the broad of your back and I’m checking your pulse. You tell me.”

#

After a long shower and pulling on his suit Jason looked at his face in the mirror, he was looking at the wrinkles around his left eye which was rapidly turning a deep shade of purple.

“Getting too old for this shit, huh?” Said a voice from behind him.

Jason turned to see Campbell Moore standing behind him in the locker room. Moore was from Jason’s generation of Operatives, the ones who cut their teeth listening to stories about Leon Kennedy, Chris Redfield and the notorious Albert Wesker. While Jason had remained in the field Moore had turned desk jockey. The two weren’t close friends but they still shared a certain camaraderie that only comes from surviving something horrible.

“Don’t be clichéd.” Jason said returning to the mirror and doing up his tie.

“While you were smacking around children we got a ping. Redfield wants to see you.”

“What’s the job?”

“Don’t know.”

“Where’s the job?”

“Don’t know.”

“What do you know?”

“Redfield wants to see you in Rome... and rumour has it you’re tipped for team leader.”

Jason’s shoulders slumped.

“Have fun babysitting.” Moore chuckled as he left the locker room.

#

The flight hadn’t been too bad although by the time he reached Rome his black eye was a full blown shiner and he silently cursed Bruce for giving it to him. Inside the HQ building he noticed Ezrael Hawke and Dmitri Yaunkovich and shot them a silent nod of acknowledgement. Both men were operatives with the Europe branch and while Jason had never worked with Hawke he’d heard good things about the sniper. He remembered back in the Paras their code name for sniper support was God. It was an old military joke but it still brought a smile to Jason’s face.

Yaunkovich had a reputation as a solid operative but rumour had it Dmitri had a death wish. If it got in the way of Jason’s objectives he would be only too happy to accommodate him. Jason knew the man had undergone VDV training which he assumed wouldn't be too different from what Jason went through to become a British paratrooper. Jason made a mental note of this in case the topic of infiltration strategies came up during the meeting with Redfield.

He’d recognised the two Redfields immediately and listened to their banter without comment, he wondered if one could shoot the other if it came down to it. He’d seen it happen on Ops, men freezing up when the time came to put down an infected comrade. Jason had made the decision long ago that the choice between him and anyone else wasn’t a choice at all. He also noticed Aaron Muller but knew little about the man except his lineage.

Jason thought the BSAA always had a problem with nepotism but this was starting to feel like a Christmas Day at the Redfield’s. He trusted Chris though as when he’d been a rookie everyone looked up to the living legend and respected his undying commitment to the fight against the BOW menace. Now though as Jason was admitted into the office of the 67 year old man it was clear the fight had taken something out of Chris. Something you could never get back.

Not that Jason could judge, he was the oldest there by at least a decade and he couldn’t help but wonder what the youngsters thought about the old man with the black eye. Maybe they looked at him the way he looked at Redfield, “the glory days are over who are you kidding trying to run with us?” It didn’t concern him though so long as it didn’t interfere with operational integrity.

He made his way into Chris’ office and saluted his boss.

---

A six man B.S.A.A. squad was sent to the Faroe Islands to investigate reports on B.O.W.'s, they had to parachute over the islands because the fog was too great to safely land. After that they were quickly chauffeured to Tórshaven. Three of the islands had already been blocked off by the local authorities, as they were completely overrun, the remaining people were trying to escape the island, but seeing as the only plane to arrive on the island before the fog returned was a B.S.A.A. aircraft, no one got the chance to escape by plane. They were loading a few refugees onto ship and shipping them to Denmark, but they simply didn't have enough room.

The commanding officer, one Viktor Yezhov, requested reinforcements from HQ, but the problem was, there was no way to get enough people on the island through the fog(parachuting was more conducive to small numbers based on the size of the islands themselves). The night of their arrival, around midnight, the northernmost island became overrun with B.O.W.'s, they soon had to evacuate the city, the problem was that there were no boats or planes on the island itself. Before the break of dawn, Tórshaven had been completely overrun, despite all the efforts of the B.S.A.A. team, they simply couldn't handle the sheer number of B.O.W.'s.

---

Viktor was yelling into the radio at Headquarters, trying to get a way off of the islands as quickly as possible. The squad had taken shelter in an apartment building in downtown, they had lost two of their members during the night, Aaron was depressed about it, despite it being their commander's fault. It was Viktor's first command, and he froze up, he was an experienced footman, but not an experienced commander. The youngest member of the group, a woman named Violet Lange, was watching the streets. She was unlucky enough to have been a skydiver and got into the mission after a boatful remark about her skills with a parachute. Aaron was skulking in one of the corners of the room, his rifle set beside him as he stared at the ground. Dmitri was leaning against a wall near the front door, just in case.

"Fuck!" Viktor yelled, throwing his radio across the room, "The fog is still too thick and HQ thinks sending more paratroopers in is too dangerous."

"So what do we do?" Violet inquired, panic marring her face.

"We hold out until the fog thins out..."

"It won't any time soon," Aaron said in a low, despondent, tone, "We should probably take a boat."

"No," Viktor responded quickly, "That's against procedure, we simply need to hold out and wait for HQ to send more troops."

"The entire Island is overrun with B.O.W.'s, do you really think they're going to send reinforcements to get four people out?"

"They wouldn't leave us behind."

"Wouldn't you in their position?" Dmitri said, sauntering into the room. He was blasé about the situation, a common occurrence, "They'd probably lose a lot more time, money, or reinforcements, then we're worth."

"I refuse to believe that," Viktor responded turning from his soldiers.

"Well you had best start because you already have two of your soldiers blood on your hands," Violet yelled.

"Calm down, yelling at each other won't solve anything," Dmitri interjected.

Violet scoffed and turned back towards the window. Her previous look of panic had been replaced with displeasure.

"Dmitri, come here," Viktor said, walking into the kitchen.

Dmitri follow and said quietly, "What is it, sir?" Viktor was younger and less experienced than Dmitri, but Dmitri had no interest, nor skill in command(he still may have been a step up from Viktor however).

"You've been with B.S.A.A. longer than any of us, do you really think they will not rescue us?"

"It's a distinct possibility," he placed his hand on Viktor's shoulder and smiled, "But we'll pull through."

"All of us."

Dmitri simply nodded before returning to the previous room, Viktor not far behind.

Aaron was still staring off into space, hating himself for the loss of his comrades. He kept telling himself that if he had acted faster then he would have been able to save them... He was wrong of course, but he couldn't fight the feeling...

"We cannot wait for bureaucracy to work, we need to take matters into our own hands," Viktor said, picking up his rifle, "We need to get to the docks and take a boat, otherwise we'll die here..."

The other two didn't see, but Dmitri saw him shaking with his rifle in his hands. Aaron and Violet moved to the door and Dmitri placed his arm on Viktor's shoulder. He spoke softly, "You up to this?"

"Yeah, I can do it," he said, taking a deep breath. They left the apartment building and made their way to the docks.



They reached the docks after about a half an hour with too many close calls, Viktor was coated in the juices from more than one B.O.W. By the time they arrived at the docks he was shacking again, he wasn't prepared for command, not at all. Dmitri was trying to get him through it, but he didn't care enough to actually take command. There was a locked gate that Viktor tried to shoot through, to no avail.

"Fuck," he said, kicking the gate, "How do we get through?"

"I have this," Dmitri said, pulling out a few lock picks, opening the door after just a few moments.

"Move," Viktor said, gesturing his troops inside.

They moved through the docks and saw most of the boats missing, there was, however, a single boat with a family getting ready to leave. There was a small child, a girl around 10 years of age, an older man. The moment the team came into view, the older man pulled a gun on them, shaking.

"S-Stay back!" he yelled, stuttering. His hand was shacking while he held the gun.

"Calm down," Viktor said, raising his rifle. Aaron and Violet did the same, Dmitri didn't.

"I just want to get out of here with my daughter," he said.

"You have room, don't you?"

"This is a four person boat, it can't take more than two of you without sinking."

"There is an easy solution to this," Viktor smiled. He fired a round into the man's skull.

"What the fuck!?" Dmitri yelled.

"Get on the boat, now," he said.

His squad looked at him.

"That's an order!" He waited for a moment before sighing, "You're right, we need to kick that girl off too..."

He raised his gun at the girl, both Violet and Dmitri charged at him, Violet was closer however. The gunshot resonated and Violet fell down, blood pouring from her chest.

Viktor looked up at Dmitri and began to shake, "I... I just wanted to get us all out alive..."

Dmitri pulled out his pistol and fired a single round into Viktor's skull. A cavalcade of blood, bone, and brains propelled from the large hole in his head. Aaron stood still, not knowing what to say.

"Son of a bitch," Dmitri said, spitting on Viktor.

"What did you just do!?" Aaron yelled.

Dmitri looked Aaron in the eyes and said, "I shot him, what does it look like?"

"Do you know what HQ will do to you?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

"Oh well."

"No, we... we can lie!"

"Don't bother."

"But you'll be fired... or worse!"

"I had to do it," Dmitri holstered his gun and grabbed Violet's body, taking it to the boat. He tossed it to the side and looked the small girl in the eyes. She was crying, it was worse than any physical pain that Dmitri could have endured. He placed Violet's body at the end of the boat before kneeling in front of the girl, "I'm sorry about your father, but he would have wanted you to go on."

The girl moved to the other side of the boat, keeping away from Dmitri.

Aaron got on soon afterwards and said, "Let's go I guess..."

---

They were picked up about 20 miles out at sea by a B.S.A.A. ship, and were subsequently taken to Norway, where they were put on a plane to Rome after filing the reports of the mission. Both assumed it was for the incident with Viktor.

They arrived at Rome and were subsequently chauffeured into the Director's office, Chris Redfield. Neither recognized many of the people, but they both knew the Redfields, Farah and Liam. Dmitri recognized Jason Greaves, through nothing but reputation. The man looked older and more... gruff, than the picture Dmitri saw, and the black eye was an interesting feature as well. By now they had both realized that whatever they were there for, it wasn't about Viktor.

---

Vervain sat before her computer, typing endless amounts of formulas and data for experiments into the device. It was hard really, being who she was. People expected things of her, great things, terrible things, sometimes both. She put in a great deal of effort to make them both. A knock on her door brought her attention away from the screen before a man, graying at the temples, walked into her office. A white lab coat adorned his body and Vervain recognized him as a long time employee, she continued on with her work.

"Dr. Gottschalk, some…complications have arisen with the subject." His voice was hesitant, scared even, and that was with good reason. The experiment he was speaking of was one that Vervain had been painstakingly working on since she began as an Umbrella researcher. Some would say that she had quite the unhealthy relationship with said experiment, others would say she was obsessed. Vervain had a different view.

Her typing stopped, her eyes slowly rose to focus on the man before her. "What kind of complications?" Her voice was calm as she stood, taking her time in walking towards the man. Once she reached his side she took the clipboard he was holding, reading over his notes as she left her office.

The other scientist followed behind her, talking as the proceeded down the hallway. "It would appear some of my calculations were wrong," This was dangerous territory he was treading in. "The subject does not appear to be taking well to any of the hosts we have provided for it. Their bodies deteriorate rapidly and exhibit aggressive and animalistic behaviors." He paused as the entered into an elevator, Vervain hitting the button for one of the sub-level floors.

"Dr. Greyson," She had finished reading over all the notes he had provided her and instead focused on the bright red floor numbers displayed on the screen above the elevator door. An eerie silence fell between the two. With each passing moment Dr. Greyson became increasingly fidgety, perspiration beginning to appear on his brow. "You know that we are not dealing with some inferior sample material, that this experiment is the future of not just Umbrella but for the entire world do you not?" Her voice had actually startled him.

The elevator dinged, signaling their desired floor was reached, and two-seconds later the metal doors opened revealing another hallway. "Yes, of course. I just want to see this project succeed as quickly as possible." He replied hastily, quickly following after her as she began to walk. They passed room after room, windows revealing labs filled with people and experiments alike, until they reached a large sealed door. Vervain took out her ID and swiped it through the security lock before placing her eye over the retinal scanner. A panel next to the door opened once she was finished and she took a few seconds to punch on the numbered code.

The door finally opened and Vervain stepped through. Greyson went to follow once more but within a second he was face to face with the barrel of a gun. "Haste can bring failure and that's exactly what you have provided me with." Her voice was sweet as she spoke and the grin she wore only broadened as she pulled the trigger. The back of Greyson's skull all but exploded with the impact, his body dropping to the ground with a dull thud. A few people entered the hallway at the sound of the shot. "Make sure that this mess is cleaned by the time I leave." She ordered as she stepped back and secured the door shut behind her.

She was feeling better was she continued on her way, Greyson had been an incompetent fool. The so-called doctor hadn't given her anything other than failures and excuses; both of which she had no need for. She climbed down a spiral metal staircase and into a highly equipped laboratory. This was her own personal one, one that few people have the reward of setting foot it. It was an opportunity that she should have never allowed Greyson to have. The area was empty for the moment, none of her team had come in.

Vervain made her way over to one of the consoles, typing in a few codes before one part of the wall opened up and pushed forward a large liquid filled capsule. A warm smile twisted her lips as she made her way over to it, her palm pressing gently against the glass as she gazed longingly at what laid inside. "Soon, my darling. I promise, I'll make you all better. I promise…"

Farah stared at her father as the wrinkles in his forehead told of the stress he was under. Chris, on the other hand, rubbed his forehead before turning to acknowledge the group that came in. He saluted Jason as he entered the room. He noticed that two of the people he had chosen had not arrived. Sarah and Ezrael. Perhaps something happened to them, or they were on an undercover mission. That was the only reason they would not have appeared before him today. Chris cleared his throat as he grabbed a pile of papers, stacked them together and stood.

“I take it you are at least informed of the reason why you are here today?” he questioned, only receiving questioning glances in return. He sighed before continuing, “Intell suggests that the subject we are tracking was last reported in Turkey. You are all to go there and investigate to see if it is true. Should you come into contact with the subject,” he paused as he slipped on the projector. It held an image of a young woman who strongly resembled D.S.O. agent, Sherry Birkin.

“Leena Muller, you are to let Aaron speak with her first. We need her to keep her from a potential threat,” he finished as he glanced at his group. “You are all to leave immediately. Board the next plane to Turkey and be wary of the recent B.O.W. attacks,” he stated, staring at Farah in particular and Liam. Farah saluted Chris as did Liam before they were both ushered out. Farah glanced over her shoulder, taking in her father’s office one last time before sighing and walking towards her temporary room. She needed to prepare for this trip. She did not want to be caught off guard like in Guan Xi. Those horrid screams…they were still plaguing her mind.

“Farah,” her cousin’s voice snapped her out of her stupor as Liam came into view. “Everything okay?” he asked, eyes holding sincerity as he stared at his cousin. Farah merely shook her head before waving him off.

“Sure, everything’s fine,” she replied almost as if she were trying to reassure herself. Liam merely stood still, trying to figure out what seemed to be on Farah’s mind.

“If you are incompetent, you shouldn’t be on this mission,” he stated, earning a glare from Farah. A smirk adorned his lips as he shoved her shoulder slightly and saluting her with two fingers. “See you on the plane,” he stated as he walked off. Farah merely smiled and left for her room.

This would be an interesting mission.

Chris wrapped up his briefing and Jason gave the old man a stiff salute before filing out of the office. He made a beeline for the armoury as he figured it would be best to get equipped first as any further briefings could be performed while the team was in transit.

#

The armoury was well appointed although Jason wouldn’t have expected anything less from Chris Redfield. The Armourer was a woman who’s uniform identified her as Downs. He nodded in her direction as he checked out her stock.

He didn’t know if it was seeing Redfield or him just getting old but he was feeling Nostalgic for the old days and that was expressed in his choice of Firearms. First he chose a Colt M1911, the BSAA model was highly customised with a laser sight and 14 round capacity. In BSAA circles the weapon was referred to as a Killer Seven apparently a name it picked up during a DSO operation decades ago.

Jason inspected the weapon and was impressed, it had been augmented far beyond normal BSAA specs.

“Like the Seven?” Downs called from the gun cage.

“It’s Amazing. The feeding ramp is polished to a mirror sheen. The slide's been reinforced and the interlock with the frame is tightened for added precision. The sight system is original, too. The thumb safety is extended to make it easier on the finger, a long-type trigger with non-slip grooves. A ring hammer... The base of the trigger guard's been filed down for a higher grip. Where'd you get something like this?”

“I made it, needs field testing but one day it’ll be the official sidearm of the BSAA.”

“Well that’s me sold.” Jason said as he placed the gun in his holster and grabbed a few magazines.

Next he picked up a FN FAL with a under barrel M302 grenade launcher. He checked the action and decided he liked the feel of the weapon.

“Like the old school stuff, huh?” Downs asked.

“Yeah the FAL is a good gun.”

“You now that was the setup favoured by Sherry Birkin.”

“No kidding.” Jason said as he inspected the weapon’s action. He wasn’t normally one to believe in signs from above but figured this was as close he would get to one. The load out Leena Muller’s mother had used. He nodded to himself and took the weapon.

Finally he got his webbing together along with some body armour, a survival knife and a first aid kit. While he wasn’t a doctor he could patch someone up long enough to get them to one.

“Thanks Downs.” He said as he left the armoury.

“Be sure to mention the Seven in your after action report!” She called after him.

#

His last stop was a large IT room where a skinny kid with think glasses handed him a PDA.

“It’s loaded with all the maps and data relevant to your mission. It also functions as your Comms.”

“Great. I assume it’s got a tracker too?”

“Yes we can activate it remotely if you get into any trouble.”

Jason nodded.

“Additional Intel has also been loaded.”

“Great.”

“That’s all I have for you Operative Greaves. Just try to bring it back one piece.”

Greaves shrugged and pocketed the PDA.

#

With his gear in order Greaves made his way to the plane. It looked like he was the first one there, he grabbed a seat and waited for the others to arrive.