Chapter One:Training Day



0215 Aboard the Flight Deck of the C.A.S.S. Jefferson Davis


The winds are howling and the rain is driving into the hangar area of the small "Gator Frieghter" or LST class troop transport. Before you stands a C.A.S. Naval officer in undetermined rank due to the rain coat he's wearing and your manager (or handler as he's known in the Merc business) Myrmidon or just plain Myr. Myr is accustomed to speaking loudly and his voice carries over the wind, rain and normal sound of the sea." I know it's short notice, but it couldnt be helped. Glad to see all of you that made it here. Lets cut to the skinny then...to start it's triple our normal fee." Myr watches the faces as some smile or produce agreeable demeanors." The bad news is...you leave in a few hours." Myr waits for the grumbles to quiet down before proceeding." We do have up to date intelligence and a priliminary plan plotted for us. That means some of the guess work is already done and logistics has been set in motion." Myr walks closer to the team and lowering his voice says." If you all arent on board for this I'll personally tell them to stick the job somewhere. So let me see by vote who's in."

Johnny was indeed pleased to hear about the larger than normal sum, but wasn't too bothered by the leave time. Even if it had been an inconvenience, this was obviously in the service of his country if they bothered to invite them on board an aircraft carrier. "Good thing I didn't have any plans. I'm game. So just where in the world are we off to this time?" he asked.

The tall, dark (two outa’ three ain’t bad) man at the end thinks to himself: First one says no is goin’ over th’ side, then we’ll all be ‘on board’ or ‘over board’…

A smile toys with the corners of his lips. His bass voice cuts through all the noise; “Triple huh? Sounds risky, but I wanna know more.” No need to appear over-enthusiastic.

The Hammer knows he’s different from some of these guys. Some of them just want to make a living. He, on the other hand, is addicted.

Specter shifted his weight from side to side with the subtle motion of the ship, he had been raised on his father's yatch, but he still had never gotten the hang of the movement. He watched the rain coming horizontal across the C.A.S.S. Jefferson Davis' magnificent flight deck, and longed for the old days of being dropped deep behind enemy lines, with nothing but a survival knife and three days worth of rations. Back in those days weapons were procure on site, and he didn't have the luxury of carrying into battle the highly polished and well refined equalizer that he has now.

As Myr asked the team if they were in, Specter held his comments until a few others had spoken up, trying to read the mood of the group. If they had asked him to go unarmed into a heavily guarded Aztlan military installation and remove a political figure without being noticed, he probably would, infact he had before. Except that time he had been noticed, and on purpose, which was why he was standing on the flight deck of the air craft carrier to begin with.

After both Hammer and Johnny had spoken up, Specter felt he had just about gauged the mood of the group, agreable.

"Provided it's not a setup, or babysitting some rich kid on a camping trip, if everything smells right, I'm in," he looked Myrmidon in the eyes, holding his gaze for a second trying to look for some hints as to what this new assignment would entail.

To Specter money had nothing to do with him being a merc, it was that cold feeling that fell over him when the fighting started, it was stalking through heavy fire unnoticed by the opposition and slowly but effeciently dropping them one by one. It was one big game of whack-a-mole, they'd stick thier head up to fire and he'd make a new window to thier mind. He even enjoyed that tingly feeling he got when the adrenaline subsided, giving way to the inevitable shakes, smiliar to what you'd feel after vomitting. But this was not praying to the plascline god, this was killing a man in combat.

He also had a special purpose being in this group, he served as the long ranged eyes, and along with his partner Jack they made damn certain the group didn't walk up on anything unexpected.

The rain gave the false inpression of letting up, and then resumed soaking the already waterlogged deck crew, but that was how rain was, relentless. It was like a vicious dog who smelled fear on you, not giving up until one of you is dead, the rain usually died out before you did, but it was nights like these that made a man think that this time it just might not stop.

As Myr looked away satisfied with Specter, he caught a glimspe of something in his eye that he just didn't like. He thought that his handler knew something he wasn't telling, something that could be detrimental to the team. But danger was what he lived for wasn't it? Shouldn't the idea that he could come back from this assignment in a pinewood box make him that much more eager to do it? Twenty years ago maybe, but he had changed since then hadn't he, he had other things, more important things, to worry about now. But that was the buisness, you either did what you had to or somebody else would, and that's money out of your pocket, money that you can use to... what feed your family? As far as they're concerned your dead, and they're fine with that, imagine what your son went through, imagine what you wife went through. Well she's not your wife now, she's moved on and got herself somebody who can be there for her, somebody she can trust.

The Panther had been spending most of his time onboard near the rail, contributing his share to the endless ocean of water via last night's rations and drinks. His eyes were teary from the wind that buffetted him, and he looked pale as a ghost, What's wrong with having meetings on land.... he wondered to himself before heading into the meeting place. He sat in the corner, not so much to be the dark brooder, but because it offered him a place to lay back, head in the corner as his innards argued about the benefits of being outards. They do this on purpose I think... get me to the point I'll agree to near anything to get off the boat...

He never says a word, as much because he has nothing to contribute as to the fact that he's afraid his words will come out with alot more than air. However he does nod his affirmation, not like he ever said no to a fight.

Witht he spray kicking against his jumpsuit, Bartleby is pleased his bow is safely stowed, he thinks to himself,
Rosie will be pissed, I didn't have a chance to clear my bar tab before I left, but it sounds interesting enough to get more details.
"Sounds interesting but triple the fee usually means either they don't expect to pay us or they don't know what the frag is going on outside of 'intel'. I have a feeling we're all in, but it would be nice to get some details for a change before we commit, after all, you didn't haul us up on this tug for a fishing trip."

Echo looked up from the slim camo-print deck case she'd been tinkering with, faintly startled as though she'd only just realized that the men had stopped talking and were waiting for .. something.

"Oh, right," she chuckled, "I'm in too. As if you needed to ask. Details are good."

And if someone wants to pay triple for a job we'd do anyway, well, I have some real estate near Hong Kong they might be interested in....

Myr looks at the faces of the rest of the team."Are thier reservations about this mission? Are we in or out of this one people?" Myr asks sternly when he recieves no reply from the others.

Hammer grabs the man standing next to him who hadn’t spoken up. Hoisting him by the belt and the back of the neck, Hammer turns and rushes toward the side. He releases the man high enough to clear the safety chains and watches as he flails wildly, landing with a splash.
The Navel officer pales and begins to speak rapidly into a radio. As klaxons begin blaring and the “Man Overboard” alert comes over the speakers Hammer turns, rubs his hands together and shouts; “The man asked if we are IN or OUT people!”