Mexico Military Base, Mexico. 1600hours.
The warmth of the desert hit her like a smack in the face, sand swirling up around her body from the wind created by choppers and jeeps, the smell of gunpowder and gasoline meeting her nose. She hated the heat. Detested it even. Slinging her backpack and rifle case over her shoulder she made her way through the countless halls until she stood before the heavy wooden door, she could hear voices on the other side and she recognised a few.
Pushing the door open she was greeted by the voice of Shepard, but before he could say anyting she held up her hand to tell him to shut up and he did, she was the only woman or person who could ever do such a thing without her head being on a stick so eyes were on her. And he stayed quiet as she rummaged through the bags until she founded a crumbled box of Yorkshire tea bags, he stayed silent as the woman moved toward the small kitchen and flipped on the kettle, stayed silent as she made herself a cuppa in the cardboard cups on the counter. And stayed silent as she turned to the corner and downed it, the scalding sweetness a welcome thing after hours without one, face protected by the hood of her disguise.
Finally, the woman turned around and nodded slightly as if giving him permision to talk. Someone treating the general as no one as she did was unseen, even more so how he hadn't even protested. And in those painstakingly long three minutes not a word was spoken, however eyes followed each and every move. Within those three minutes she'd had memorised the layout of the room and each exit and entrance, the door you had come from, a slim window at the top middle of the room between said door and kitchen and a door on the back. A large mahogany table sat in the centre surrounded by chairs and topped by scattered files and papers, a large tv and unused and dusty projector as well as corkboards filled with different papers. A large grey sofa not far from the table and a small kitchen equipped with the basics.
"This is the new additon to the task force" He spoke plainly and pointed a look at her as she sat down on a chair and spread her legs, a comfy seat after hours of rain and mud and then being stuck in a metal tin was welcomed. "Reaper, the liutenant. She has some.. special expertise which you'll need for your friend in the cell" Being put to work already. There were many reasons Reaper hated Shepard, mostly because he was a prick. There wasn't anyone she hated more. Laswell funnily enough hadn't said a word, it was quiet for a moment until a Scottish voice cut through the air, a buff man with a funny looking mohawk stood up and held his hand out. "I'm Sergent McTavish, call me Soap"
She just stared at it for a moment through the voids of her mask before finally reaching her gloved hand out and shaking it, he was tall, they all were. And to be taller than her was an acomplishment, most people didn't know Reaper and so any time they did they were surprised. Reaper was a six foot tall woman with fairly large muscles, and they bulged everytime she moved, so in reality she wasn't much smaller in stature than the man who had introduced himself as Soap.
Finally she had learned who everyone was, the other liutenant going by the name of Ghost hadn't bother to introduce himself and neither had she, in fact she had barely spoken three words since entering the room. If she was to tell the truth, her eyes had first been caught by Price, having heard a lot about him it was strange to meet him in person and no one had told her how handsome he was. But she wasn't here for that and wouldn't even bother, but she couldn't say that the group were ugly because they weren't.
McTavish had offered to show her the room that she would be staying in for the time spent here, a special space for members of the 141 secluded away from other soldiers, rooms equipped with en-suite showers albeit small ones. He was a talkative person and she was not, so every so often she would glance at him or grunt at his words to show she was listening, she didn't know much about them and so any information she could store away would be useful.
Left alone in her room she took the oppurtunity to drill some extra locks into the door, it made her feel safer that way, stripping off her crinkle filled clothes and puting away her vest and anything else she needed too in the small wardrobe, chucking her duffel bags onto the twin sized bed she made her way to the small shower. Placing the few shower items she needed where they belonged while turning the water onto the hottest temperature the shower would go, hot steam meeting the air and melting on her bare skin.
"fuck.." She mumbled to herself as the scalding water met her aching muscles, taking the little time she had to wash the mud and grime off her skin. Shepard, being the kind man he was had given her time to shower and change before they travelled to the middle of the desert and let her do what she did best. The scent of oatmeal shampoo and conditioner filling the air and then rasberry showergel, she wanted to stay under the water until the skin of her fingers and toes pruned up but that wasn't an option. Reluctantly she got out and dried off before changing into a long sleeved shirt, black cargo trousers and her combat boots. Fastening the tactical belt around her waist and slipping the guns and knives into the home on her thigh holsters, slipping on the heavy weight of her vest and checking she had everything needed and re-adjusting her mask and gloves.
