Dr. Ian Kesler looked across at his companion for a long moment, smiling the cold fleshy smile that had become so iconic of himself. He strode over with military precision, his suit and overcoat completely spotless. The morning had gone unusually well. Most of the experiments were too drowsy to do anything but sleep. Breakfast had been it's usual simple fare of fruit and the granola bars he'd grown so fond of. The man looked over the Colonel's pristine uniform, his eyes glistening with a masked malice. "Good. I trust you are aware of the jobs the Company will be sending you on, or do you need to be briefed?" he asked coldly.<br/><br/>The implant in his left eye would slowly begin to scan the soldier's vitals, and blood stream. Any irregularities or illnesses would immediately be shown to Kesler as he watched the soldier with a cold neutrality. It was almost like they were in a market and the Colonel was something the good doctor was considering purchasing. The soldier seemed in perfect health. Dr. Kesler pointed to the case of serums on his desk. "Take those and your luggage down to the barracks. Find yourself three bunks. Your going to be in charge of two experiments, so you'll be here for a week to get accustomed to working with them. I suggest you stow your belongings and get back here ASAP. We have work to do. Dismissed." Finishing with the Colonel, he settled in the desk and waited for either Col. Parker to return or for someone else to enter.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;">~~~~~~~~~~~~</div><br/><br/>Dr. Richardson slowly got up at about 6 AM in the morning. He stumbled out of bed for a shower and to get dressed. Peter had always hated early mornings, but this one sucked more than usual. After getting off of his flight to Beijing late last night, he had taken a long drive out to the Company owned apartment complex to rest before the huge day tomorrow. He gave a curse as he brushed his teeth then ate the toast and orange juice that he could make in five minutes. He was running late. Praying to the forces that be that Kesler would not hold this against him, he began to search for his shoes. That took about thirty minutes. What had he been thinking just leaving his clothing strewn on the couches last night?<br/><br/>Grabbing his keys, he ran to the coffee maker and poured himself a cup of coffee. Sipping the black coffee, he opened the car door, hurriedly climbed in, then slammed the door shut. A sharp agonizing pain filled his hand and he let out an infuriated howl as his thumb throbbed. Opening the door, he gingerly noted the now purple digit with a sad sigh. He didn't have time to wrap it. Putting the keys in the ignition, he drove out of the little space and began his way to work. Halfway there, he noted his hair was uncombed. Peter gave an irate sigh, ran a comb through it, then tied it back. With a scowl, he finished pulling into the drive, then slung his bag over his shoulder and headed inside.<br/><br/>With a scowl, he went through the security detail at the door than the receptionist. They both had to make horrific conversation. How was the weather? Why didn't he cut his hair like the others in the building? What was up with the traffic? How was the scenery? Did he like Beijing? Peter growled out short, half responses to each. Finally, he got downstairs to initiation. As the Colonel left for the barracks, the very harried Latino man would stride up. Someone took the Colonel's place and was asked name, scanned, and given sedatives to take elsewhere. Dr. Kesler regarded him with an annoyed look, then gave him his case and the rules for the barracks. He would follow after Leon and the Colonel.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;">~~~~~~~~~~~~</div><br/><br/>Kesler regarded Leon with a cold scowl. "If you think you can't handle your own experiment, you don't belong here, Mr. Parker. Luckily for you, the Board has decided you are the weak scum sucking bug we always thought you were. You are right. You cannot handle 005. Luckily, someone else will be handling your job for you. Now, please take your crate and pick a bunk. We've given you someone with a lot less spirit to handle. Dismissed," he said, his eyes watching the man with as much disdain as he would a dead fly.<br/><br/>As Peter walked up to him, he gave a slight scowl upon noticing his race. Unfortunately, Nazi protocol had not yet taken to the Company. He would get there eventually. After a brief scan and wave of dismissal, he sent Peter to the barracks along with the other two.  With that finished, Kesler sat back to rest.