Kyun manages not to gape too much as Ayumi approaches. Try not to make an ass out of yourself ..
He returns Ayumi's short bow and begins sipping his soda listening to the other agents talk. Kyun starts to speak after Jessica's 'fitting in' comment but then decides against it and resumes sipping his drink.
"I don't have the slightest clue what they called us for, but if our experience is any indication, I'd advise stocking up on high explosives and automatic firearms."
"I'm very sorry to hear about Gavin. He's something of a hero among the agents here in Japan--and to me. The Deckers put my brother in a three-month coma a year ago. He still only has the use of one lung. He was proud to hear I'd be working with you."
Brian walks up to the small group, dressed in tan fatigues and a red beret, the SAS symbol pinned prominently to the forehead, his black, nondescript sea bag over his shoulder.
He lookd at Jess, Artis and the new ones, sighing softly. There were faces in his mind, Gavin, Harry, Buzzard and Raven...and the royal, unquestioned clusterfuck of the last little outing fresh in his mind. Firing a shot in to the chest of a man he once considered a friend didn't help much either.
He approached, tapping Jess on the shoulder to tell her he was there. "Sight for sore eyes." He sad down, surveying the Taco Bell. "Seems I'm still on loan...someone seems to think our haggard little bunch needs a dash of old style British panache." He smiled softly, offering his hand to the new guy and woman. "Brian Malory, SAS".
Brian casts a look down at Artus's meal. "Anything good here, or is it all like that?"
"Oh, come on, Brian. I don't know if the SAS is any different, but I've yet to meet a military force that provided any decent food. Aside from the seafood dinner on the cruise to our little Slavik mission, but meanwhile, I've become ready to violently dismember anyone suggesting fish for lunch."
Ayumi chuckles. "Contrary to global stereotypes, there's more to Japanese food than sushi. You may also be surprised to hear that there is a place here on the base that serves a delicious chicken Caesar."
Jess stares at Ayumi with a pityable facial expression.
"Well, that's better than nothing. I considered going vegetarian, but Agency and common sense deviate greatly in defining what a salad is about. Most folks believe that it's about the vegetables. The Agency believes that it's about the vinegar. I believe that a good salad is about anything BUT vinegar. So here I am, eating burnt animal corpses because the folks at the cantina can't wrap their head around the fact that I like my salad more than 50% solid."
Looking around, Jess goes on in a more professional tone.
"But I don't think you came here to hear me moping about why I think my life has reached a low point at the moment. So, where's that briefing we came here for ?"
Observing the strange meeting from nearby is Jack Wade. He's wearing USMC fatigues and has Colonel birds on his epaulets and cover. He walks over to the group and cuts in, pulling everyone into huddle of sorts.
"Jesus-tap-dancing-Christ. I can tell why Philpott was so eager to hand you people over to me. You're about as subtle as a 6-foot, blue-eyed blonde walking on the Ginza. Now that you've said your hellos, let's get going."
Jack stops the procession and looks at Brian's uniform, smiling with a big grin.
"And I thought those sissy berets looked bad enough on our guys. Thank God the Corps didn't go with those rediculous things. Anyway, Lt. Bradley is waiting outside to take you to your temporary quarters."
"Right Colonel, which is why it took us 2 years to clean up Malaysia..." he winks, hefting up his bag. "Race you across the Bristol Beacons? I'll eat my beret if you win."
Kyun straightens his posture while Jack Wad addresses the group. Finishing his soda he throws the empty away. Kyun hefts his bag and briefcase again, "All set." He says and follows the group.
Jack walks the team out of the airport gate to a military humvee parked curbside. Sitting on the hood of the hummer is a butter-barred 2nd lieutenant scribing something down on his PDA. Upon noticing Colonel Wade, he stows his computer and snaps to attention.
"Sir! Ready to go!"
Jack shakes his head and gives a salute of his own.
"At ease, lieutenant...we're not at war yet. Save that stuff for the victory parade. Move yer butt and stow my associates' gear in the back."
The ride over to the barracks is uneventful, but there is alot of activity outside the Hummer. Marines can be seen going through combat drills and manuevers.
As the team (save for maybe Brian) gawk at the amount of firepower and resources presented, Jack interjects some local trivia.
"Okinawa is home to the Marine Forces Pacific, the Largest Field Command in the Marine Corps in the world. More importantly, it's where the 31st Marine Expeditionary Unit operates. They're a bit rough around the edges, but if my butt was caught behind enemy lines, there's no one else I'd ask for to get me out. Speaking of which, you'll be needing new duds while you're on base. We'll stop at the quartermaster's and get you all fitted up in the Marine Corps' Finest apparel. I hope none of you are allergic to polyesther. For interests of subterfuge and abiding Marine Corps regs, you'll all (save Brian) will be commisioned as Chief Warrant Officers-Grade 2. For you non-military types, that's the equivalent of a 1st Lieutenant. Anyone below you should salute you and anyone above you gets one. It is important you try and maintain a guise of knowing what the hell you're doing. Your specializations will cover your respective abilities. Agent Gossard, for example, would say he was a chopper pilot...Blackhawks or something like that."
Jack grins back at Brian, going into a deep Texas twang when he replies.
"Aww...shucks leftenant. You're just too dang perty for our uniforms. Just kidding! Expect some unflattering remarks, but I guess you get enough of those just being a Brit and all. But seriously, I've instructed my men to treat you with respect. Anyone of inferior rank should do so accordingly. If they don't, you have every right to put a boot their ass. Hell, I'd do the same. Just be careful lieutenant, my men are some tough hombres."
"Wear your uniforms? I'm sorry, but I lost touch with my primitive, neandertal side long ago Colonel. That being said, I'd expect nothing less from American marines."
After getting fitted for Marine BDUs, the team heads over to their barracks. Lieutenant Bradley drops off Jack at the officers club, with Jack giving an open invitation for drinks and dinner when settled in.
The barracks are expectedly spartan, with each person having a small room about the size of a train compartment. There is a sink and toilet in each room with showers (female and male) down the hall. Lieutenant Bradley looks a bit off-balance.
"Erm...the Colonel sends his apologies for the living arrangements. He was told only just yesterday of your arrival and had to muster up what little space the base had to offer. Those people over base housing should be strung up on a yardarm. As a consolation, here's the keys to the Hummer...I'm gonna hoof it back."
Dieter
