<div class="floatleft">(http://Place URL of character icon here)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Rick Steen<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Landing zone<br/><strong>Tag:</strong>Team<br/><strong>Warning:</strong>If there is anything in your post that might upset a more squeamish player, say so here.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Rick was out of the plane as soon as the people in front of him had cleared the ramp, his combat boots pounding the ground as he rushed to cover and scanned a sector, previously uncovered over the barrel of his assault rifle. From the corner of his eyes he could see the others deplaning taking up similar positions, or they should.<br/><br/>With a yerk he levelled his rifle at movement, the motion done before it was even conscious thought. ‘Movement’ he spoke into his mike. ‘Make it, two tender aged children, one adult female. Inside the,..butchershop?’ He continued. Looking at the storefront, they were peering out of. the noise from their plane had attracted their attention. ‘Suggest, me and Chulski to collect them’ he added.<br/><br/>His suggestion made, because of middle eastern sensitivities, regarding strange males and the fact that Chulski could provide a friendlier face to his fully armed and armoured combat soldier appearance.<br/><br/>