Area of Operation for Operation Grab Bag

20 minutes after exiting the debriefing room

Reed walked out into the chilly, starless night air of the southwestern United States. He placed down his gear and removed a cigarette from his personal pack, lighting it quickly and taking a deep drag from it. He exhaled slowly, watching the smoke dance lazily through the air before being wiped away by the whirling blades of several helicopters landing near by. An agent dressed in solid black BDUs exited the helicopter once the loading ramp was done, ducking slightly so as to not lose his head. Reed looked at the agent and flicked the cherry off of his cancer stick, "Are the supplies ready?" He questioned, raising his voice to be heard properly over the whirling blades near by.
"Yes Sir! We also have your separate supplies you requested as well!" He motioned to the Black-hawk in the rear of the group.
"Looks like the assistance will be here any minute now.."

Cold Day, while she sports a stocky build, still looks almost comically overpacked. A combination of ammunition and black kevlar makes up the majority of her body padding while the large first aid kit on her back protrudes from her form by almost a foot. Despite all of the supplies that she brings, and most likely won’t even use all of herself, she seems to have usual maneuverability that is expected of her class. Her black elastic shemagh bunches up at her neck while she inspects the Medical Personnel patches on her shoulders, right below the Foundation Brand.
She keeps her FN MAG alongside her while she moves towards one of the Helicopters. She did see that Mcharvy boy, didn’t she. She laughs to herself, keeping an eye out for him. She really would prefer the greenhorn to keep himself alive.

Banks enters the hanger, his cigarette hanging out of his mouth.  Looking around at the gathered people, he spots a couple of familiar faces.  Approaching Reed, feeling the cool air against his skin.  Flicking the cigarette to the ground he steps on it.  Looking over at Reed he poses one final question, "We're going to being changing into fatigues correct?"

Jr. Agent McHarvy jogged up the tarmac carrying his decent sized pack on his back to 1) catch up to the group, 2) get rid of some first mission jitters, and 3) hopefully get a seat next to Abbott. He went just fast enough in his jog so that when he caught up to the group, he wasn't panting. When he did catch up to the group, he nodded to Abbot to catch her attention and in greetings, then turned his attention to the two men smoking. He recognized one of them as Reed but couldn't put an name to the other's face.
McHarvy decided he would introduce himself when the other got his reply to his question.

Reed looks at the two agents packed with gear and considers scoffing for a moment, but decides to forgo that in favor of taking another drag from his cigarette, flicking the cherry off behind him, feeling the heat rapidly dissipate around him as it's ripped to shreds by the intense winds caused by the helicopter blades. He drops the cigarette and steps on it, taking his sunglasses from a pouch on his ballistics vest, and begins to speak to the gathered agents, "Alright, As you can see, we're not exactly going to be making a quiet entrance when we arrive in Venezuela. I know I said we'd be traveling in one Chinook, but I was only telling half the truth. Agents Mcharvy and Abbotts will be riding in the Chinhook, while Banks and I will be riding in a Black-Hawk in the back of the formation. We'll be maintaining radio contact though."

Banks nods slipping his sunglasses on, checking his jacket sides making sure he brought extra ammo for his guns. Satisfied he lets the jacket fall back in place, creating a light thunk resonating from where his guns were. Steven looks up into the cloudy night, his mind drifting back to his daughter; he still needed to find a place to live off site... now was not the time to be thinking about that. Taking a deep breath, he started mentally preparing himself for the mission.

“Noted, Sir,” She says calmly, regarding the clarification with a nod. She looks over to McHarvy with a smile one would expect from a secondary school bully. She remembers being at the bottom rung of her squad. Of course, she wouldn’t be too rough, just enough to communicate common army courtesy. She reassumes a more professional look when looking back to Reed. “Will that be all sir?” She asks while passively closing the distance between herself and the newbie.

"Yes sir," McHarvy responded sternly, putting an emphasis on 'sir'. He set his 'valuables', given to him by the Foundation, on the ground next to Reeds, then rejoins the group, mission in mind. Seeing as he just got Banks's name from the orders just given, narrowing down to him by process of elimination. McHarvy decides not to introduce himself. He noticed Abbott's smile, and her closing the space between them. He raises an eyebrow questioningly at her, but does nothing more.

Walking towards the group from the front of the chopper Jericho catches Reeds eye, "When's take off?" he leans his right side against the chopper while keeping everyone in front of him. It doesn't seem as though he has brought much of anything aside from a holstered Makarov on his left hip.

Reed looks to Dean, giving him an acknowledging nod before finishing his address of the others, " Also, there will be standard issue Ak-103s on board the chopper, as well as a few patches and other identifying markers so that people will think we're with the Venezuelan Army." He dismisses the two agents in front of him, offering another cigarette to Banks as he takes one out for himself, lighting it. "So, nice of you to show up Dean. Like the look your going for, makes you look a lot more professional than those two." He jerks his head in the direction of the agents he had just dismissed. "Sorry to say, but you'll be riding with those two for this one. Banks and I are gonna be riding in the Black Hawk in the back of formation. we'll keep you up to date on any developments we hear from intel, understood?"

Banks accepts the cigarette, taking out his lighter he lights it. Taking a drag, he inspects the new guy. He had packed light, not something most newbies would think of doing... if he kept doing things like this he was going to go far.
Glancing around Steven spots the man his report indicated. Taking in everything he could about the agent, he commited it to memory. The level four would have to remember what chopper this man was in, and track him after they landed. He gritted his teeth looking around at the number of people who would be coming on this mission... he wouldn't have time to drag what he needed out of this guy, he'd have to make it quick. He looks back to Reed keeping his target in eye sight, giving him a nod of acknowledgement he waits for the leader of the operation to make the first move to the choper.

“Sir.” She acknowledges as she is dismissed. As she walks, her ears catch the smart remark, causing her grip to tighten around the handle of her light machine gun. The nerve! It wouldn’t be uncommon for such a stable country such as Venezuela to send in military reinforcement to an occurrence of violence. What was he trying to imply? Has he never seen a field medic before? Was she to come in with ragged fatigues and a red beret? That would completely undermine the medic part of her role. Besides, with the Global Occult Coalition coming in, it would be better to come in with all of her weaponry and items. She might even fit the bill for the United Kingdom Sending in reinforcements.
She lets out an exasperated sigh. She was letting all the heat get to her head again. She shakes it off, entertaining the idea of the others, not being suitably equipped, started falling backwards while she bunkered down. It must be a matter of training. She was no newbie, She was a bunker. She was used to digging into her surroundings and holding an area. Why fix what isn’t broken?
The Boy!
A devilish grin returns to her face as she walks only slightly ahead of Mcharvy as they travel towards the Chinook. There’s something she’d have fun fixing up...

"Sir," McHarvy replied to being dismissed. He lagged behind a bit to grab his bag back from where he put it. He wasn't that far away when he heard "...makes you look a lot more professional than those two." Mark sighed. He would go through his bag, keep the essentials, then leave it on the Chinook. Rookie's mistake to pack for quick mission like this. He should have known this but hey, he was only human.
He wondered why Abbott brought so much stuff. Maybe it was a woman thing? Then, upon closer inspection of the bag, he noticed the medical aid symbol. Ah, so she was their field medic. Still didn't answer the question of why she smiled at him like that though.
His mind was wandering. Again.

Once in the Chinook, dressed as a Venezuelan Army's man with the Ak-103, (Though he doubted he'd pass as a Venezuelan man seeing as he has red hair and his skin is white as almond milk.) he sat in the middle of the seats on the left side of the helicopter with his backpack between his legs. He already grabbed his utility belt from his backpack and put it on. Should be enough stuff for the mission. Extra ammo, first aid supplies, combat knife, and a canteen. McHarvy felt pretty confident for his first mission.

"Sir." Jericho begins making his way over to the chopper sneaking a Chocolate bar out of his sleeve. He gets in and takes a seat on the right of the redhead, opening his Kit-Kat. He eats one piece trying to calm his nerves, this upcoming mission is really stressing him out. He gets himself geared up and looking like a Venezuelan militant and checks out his AK-103. He checks the barrel and slide to make sure it's all cleaned so his gun doesn't jam out in the field. He eats a second piece before realizing he hasn't so much as said hello to the man next to him. Extending a piece of his bar he says "Hey I'm Jericho, you want a piece of chocolate?"

Reed watches the young agents make their way into the Chinook. Once the loading door closes, he taps Banks on the shoulder and motions for him to follow Reed. The Senior agent climbs on board the blackhawk, seating himself with his back to the pilot. He reaches into a duffle bag placed in the seat next to him, pulling out numerous silenced assault rifles and high powered rifles. He also removes a folder from the bag, the words CLASSIFIED LEVEL 4 stamped across the front.

Banks follows, taking the seat across from Reed, glancing at the folder but saying nothing. He looks at the multitude of weapons by the man, he just studies figuring out which he would borrow for his disguise. Taking a puff of his smoke he looks out of the helicopter watching the agent get on the chopper. He nods to himself, turning back to Reed he watches the man waiting to see what he'll do next.

Reed hands the file to Banks and begins to explain, "Agent Banks, I know who you are. The Director informed me once you took on this operation. That file contains information on your target." The Beta-7 member also hands him a suppressed rifle, as well as a uniform with GOC markings. "You'll wear this when you move in to kill him. It'll look like a bad engagement, and no one will suspect a thing."

Banks smirks taking the file and looking through it, his smirk turns into a frown of annoyance... he was hoping that they would've figured who this guy was working for. Still there was some new info, and that could help him. Placing the file in the seat next to him, he quickly changes into his new uniform. Picking up the file he looks to Reed, "You realize that info you hold is classified under level 5 clearance, correct?"
Leaning back in his seat he takes another drag, attempting to bury the pit of worry in his stomach. This was becoming a common trait in his cases, it wasn't every case only like every five or so... but still none of this made sense. None of the SCP actually went missing they just started acting weird, and the research just was reworded here and there. When he got home, he'd lock himself in his room and go over everything again. There had to be something he missed.

Cold Day takes a seat on the left of McHarvy, stretching and rolling her shoulders to hide the fact she was still fuming at Reed. She can’t help it. She knows that she might be a little petty, especially since they are of the same rank and the tone he used towards her… She shakes her head. She was an overheating car, taking deep breaths to ensure she didn’t completely burn out.
She looks over to Jericho, squinting slightly. She recognised him from somewhere. Whatever conversation that was happening, Abbott leans forward, looking them up and down. “Hey! Aren’t you a City Slicker?” She smirks slightly. She had heard a couple good things about them, considering all their use in the Americas.

McHarvy nods to Jericho as he takes the candy. "McHarcy," he replies in his norther Dublin accent. He notices Abbott sitting down on the other side of him and turns to her. "You want half?" He asks right as he breaks apart the top of it and pops it in his mouth.
"Hey! Aren't you a City Slicker?" Abbott asks.
"City Slicker? One of the New Yorker Task Forces Right?" McHarvy asks as he turns back to Jerich, a tad confuse from his russian accent.

"I'm new, this is technically my first mission. I am a City Slicker, but Russia is my motherland. I had to leave for..." there's a brief pause, Jericho picks his next words carefully "various reason. I think we are mainly New York based but we do work elsewhere from time to time." Jericho pops the remainder of his Kit-Kat into his mouth and lays his head back, thoroughly enjoying it. He looks back up opening one eye, "Where are you two from?"

“I was born in the U.K,” She says, not even sporting an accent. She looks him up and down. “Various reasons huh…” Her eyes light up like a gossip’s when told about a shady happening. “We don’t discriminate.” She looks at the other people at the chinook. “Or at least I won’t. I was trained in the Foreign Legion. We’re used to seeing upstanding citizens training with men sporting a couple criminal records. We were built on the idea of new beginnings.” She gives him a hearty pat on the shoulder over McHarvy. “Now… Do tell.” She leans forward, interested in his past.

"It might be classified, Abbott," McHarvy warned her as he lowered her arm from the middle of his face down to his chest. He looks over at Jericho and quickly replies, "I'm from Ireland by the way. Just transferred in from just doing guard duty for the old site. This is my first mission too." McHarvy then pushed Abbott's arm off himself completely and said, "But yeah. No judging from me either if you have a seedy past or whatever."

Reed scoffed, "Of course I know the classification of this info. You should have seen the amount of paperwork I had to fill out to be briefed on it." The Senior agent takes a drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke hang around in his mouth for a moment before exhaling through his nose, letting the smoke release slowly. He sat quietly for a few moments, processing the gravity of what could befall them depending on the results of either mission. "Do you still get nervous when you're about to enter a combat zone?"

Banks takes a long drag of his cigarette, thinking his answer over. His eyes seem to drift off to the cloudy night sky, his mind drifting back to a day he hadn't thought of in years. He had never really noticed it before, but even on his first mission he had no real worry for the outcome. He sighs his eyes jumping back to Reed, "Once you've fought an outbreak of SCP-008 in your home town... not really much makes you nervous. Just something about having to pull a gun on friends and family while protecting others, just puts it all into prospective for you."
Tying his combat boots on tight, he takes another glance at the file something catching his eye. This wasn't on the file they'd given him earlier... though, to be honest they'd probably just discovered this themselves. "Well then, looks like I'm here for more then just delivering someone's severance package."