<div class="floatleft">(http://ginva.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/05/01.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Ren Colbert<br/><strong>Location: </strong>Hangar<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Jared, open<br/><br/><hr/>Surreptitiously, Renate looked around at the other badasses in the room, trying to gauge reactions. She'd bet if any one of them said they didn't have a moment of wanting to bail, they'd be lying out their asses. Sure as hell she did, briefly. Her concern, though, was more about how they either sucked it up, or were honest and took a walk. An honest person could live with themselves, culd be respected even if they pulled out.<br/><br/>Someone with second thoughts could get them all killed.<br/><br/>Looking around, she liked her chances. And hell, for all of Geoff's rah-rah, the fact was a terrorist bullet (or a bank robber's- one reason the FBI had gone to semi-auto 10mm sidearms was a  nightmare shootout in which several agents found themselves massively outgunned by the perps) could kill you just as dead as a...whatever the fuck they were. The job was the job, and she'd put up with way too much crap about chicks in the services to back off now.<br/><br/>Looking up at Jared, she grinned. "Do me a favor? You end up in my section, can you kinda slouch a little? Makes it easier to shoot over you." Then she went back to reclaim her plate of sandwiches. Another flight meant she'd better eat now, while she could.