George got on the plane and sat in the corner and then proceeded to idly fiddle with a bullet,not making any effort to converse with anyone else.

Elaine handed over the photograph to Doc, speaking as he looked at her. "That's was her on her seventh birthday...about three minutes before the drive by. I was hospitalized for about four days. She died overnight. They had to be a business rival of my husband. He's a crimelord, much like the fucker I believe we're going to destroy, but I didn't know the truth behind his 'big shipping company' until I did some investigating after her funeral."
Her expression was strong, but anyone could see she was holding back tears. "With just my own abilities, I'd never be able to find my husband Richard. If there's any chance that I might have to find that son of a bitch, it's through working for MAGNA. So once my first enlistment was over, I separated and pledged myself to MAGNA. Sure, I absolutely love explosions and fire, but nothing spurs me forward like remembering my daughter's face as she wished her father was there so she could say good-bye to him, too."
Elaine sighed, trying to regain her composure. "So, that's the real reason I'm here. How about you?"

Jessica couldn't help but overhear Doc and Elaine's conversation, and while she didn't want to join in, it did bring back memories. Guilt, one might say. Jessica was in MAGNA SpecOps not because she was a military wash-out, but because she had spent the following two years as a professional hitman. After all, master pistol skills and extreme CQC training was not something the standard army grunt got in basic.

Drive-bys were hardly professional, but the act itself was a symbolic one. The mark was Elaine's little girl, targeted merely for her relation with the divorced family. Tragic, but something someone would pay money for, moral or not. Jessica never knew, as she'd never cared to delve into the other's personal lives, but it was something that made her feel uncomfortable.

With her left hand, Jess thumbed over her MP3-Player's dial, switching the tune to The Police's "King of Pain", and turning the volume up to drown out the chatter.

"There's a little black spot on the sun todayyy..." Sting's voice poured through the headphones.

"That's my soul up there..." Twilight whispered in sequence with the chorus.

Doc was leaning back in his seat. His face had that look of a deer in the headlights. He never anticipated...that. He'd just thought she was a caring mother and without the tragic backstory. Oh well. A lot of mercenaries must have those. Still though...harsh stuff. She died when she was seven?

Doc sighed, and felt like expounding.

"I'm here mostly because of stuff like that. When I was a kid, and we would play war, I was always the medic. I was delegated that duty. When I graduated, I went into the air force and got a degree in physics, but I stuck with my trade. I was a pararescueman. Before I went to afghanistan, I served with a group of Green Berets, and SEAL team two. To get that, I had to fufill my mandatory EMT credentials, but I also got my qualification as a field trauma surgeon. I can't talk about what I did with those two, at least not for another fifteen years."

Doc leaned forward now, and put his gun aside.

"While I was in afghanistan, there were three helicopters shot down. The first two had simple recoveries, and we didn't deal with a lot of enemies. The third though...it was fucking swarming with Taliban. The rangers and canadians with us did a pretty good job of clearing it, but eventually it was decided that the PJs would need to be parachuted in. So we did. Like the good medics we were, we secured the pilots and the gunners, and administered what aid we could. I got to do a tracheotomy, and clamp someone's brachial artery. Anyways, the blackhawks and apaches showed up to extract us. We ran out, and we loaded the patients, and we saw that there were two guys left behind. Rangers. Both of them. One guy looked like he'd been shot pretty bad. So, I remembered the slogan 'So that others may live' and I ran back in."

Doc sighed at this point. This was where he got mad with himself.

"I can't remember much past there. The after-action report basically says that I shot a few people, dragged the wounded guy into cover, was shot once for my trouble, and stablized him. Then I stuck him on his pal's back and burned through the rest of my ammo covering them as they ran back. Of course, at this point the choppers had to leave, so I sprinted back there. I got shot twice more running back, managed the throw myself into the Blackhawk and proceeded to bleed. One of the machine gunners was shot, and since I was the only PJ I slapped a pressure bandage on him and grabbed the Vulcan. I was shot another two times while I was on the vulcan."

Doc rubbed his torso.

"Shot five times. Once in the calf, twice in my right arm, twice in my torso. After I got out of hospital, I was awarded the Air Force Medal. I was apparently supposed to get a Medal of Honor, but some P.R. guy in the White House said that was a bad idea, and also said that a presidential mention was a bad idea. To make things better, they said that since my shooting arm had been hurt, I would need rehab for it. Done with, by the way, good as new. When they learned it was hurt, they 'offered' me an honorable discharge, and then forced me to take it."

Doc rubbed his arm uncomfortably.

"So now I'm here. I'm making sure that people stay alive, our side and the other side. I'm trying to ensure that as few people die as possible, because, in the end, Front and a few others are here to kill. They perceive that as their job. I want to make sure that the people who deserve to live, live."

Elaine looked thoughtful as Doc gave her his story. "Before the attack, I was type of person who would think everyone was worth saving. Since Maylene's death, I'm just not so sure anymore. Maybe when I finally catch up to Richard and decide what to do with him, I'll find the woman I used to be back then."
She forced a smile which looked awkward. "I'm not sure if I want to go back to the woman I was, but at least I'll have a choice."

Hearing Elaine's story almost brought a tear to Front's eye. Still, this was business. Emotions have to come second. This issue would have to wait. The vehicle neared point.

"Okay, guys enough chit-chat. We are going to go over the mission."

Peter made sure his voice was loud enough that Kim could hear.

"Okay, first thing is to get Lull to stand on that stretch of road when thos extra troops come. Then, he will signal them to stop. Lull, you cool with that? Now, the rest of us will wait on the sides as the dunes can hide us well. It's also rather dusty, they won't see us. After Lull has stopped them and they have come out of the car, we ambush them. If they have uniforms, then I want headshots, alright? If you can't, doesen't matter. They are part of a crimelord army. They aren't good with disciplin anyway. Okay, when we come out of hiding, we can circle to surround them, and open fire. Whether they have weapons or not, we can't let them go. They know about this place, and our mission is to wipe it from existance."

Front looked around the room.

"Got any questions?"

Elaine thought about anything that might need to be brought up, but came up with nothing. Everything seemed to be in place. She remembered when she was part of a convoy that came under an enemy ambush. Now her role in that situation would be reversed. However, the team she was on would succeed where those guerillas had failed. The only thing that would really suck about the whole operation is that she would probably get hit on by the crimelord's goons...a lot. The other girls as well. It would be difficult work resisting the urge to break a nose and shoot someone in the knee, but she'd have to so as not to draw attention to herself.

"Isn't circling a bad idea?"

Doc had his hand raised and looked around. His face had that expression of suprise at the obvious.

"I mean, that goes one of two ways. First, we look deep, and we can't shoot for fear of killing one of our people. Or, we don't look deep, open fire, and kill one another in the crossfire."

"You have a point there. We all have decent aim, but we still could hit our own. Hmm... we could just jump into their vehicles and start firing. Also we could all stand behind them and shoot like a firing squad. What do you guys think?"

"Or flank them all on one angle." Jessica adds in, "Perferably from the crest of a high dune, where we'll have 70% terrain cover and they'll just have vehicles."

"After all, 7.62 FMJ'll pentrate any non-armored vehicle's door or window without much problem." She added, patting her AK, "That, and I bet Countdown and Doc use SS-109's, so they'll have little cover to speak of." and making reference to the AR-15's military-grade steel-core penetrator ammo used by the majority of frontline troops.

"No sense getting closer than we need to." She shrugs.