(<em>Bo in his bedroom getting ready to meet everyone)<br/><br/>As the sun broke the plane of the horizon, the chill night air crept upward, creating a gentle updraft along the edge of the cliff face.   High in the mountains, the cool breeze brushed gently across Bo's face, a mask of steely resolve as his complete focus remained on the courtyard of the old rock school house in the tiny village 320 yards away.  The leaf covered branches that surrounded his hide shifted slightly as the air passed through.  A quick visual inspection told him that his position was still secure and he returned his eye to the high powered spotter's scope.  The dirt covered courtyard below jumped forward through the power of the scope's magnification.  Bo imagined a primitive man looking through the scope and then reaching his hand forward in an attempt to pick up the old, tattered soccer ball which lay against the rusted swing set beside the school, and looking on in confusion at his inability to touch it.  Considering the various levels of sophistication that he had encountered in this part of the world, he knew he wouldn't necessarily have to go back in time to find that primitive man.  A healthy respect for your enemy was encouraged, but most operators had learned to have more respect for the treacherous nature of the terrain.  At least in this small province, high above anything resembling modern civilization.  Though a randomly aimed spray of AK-47 gunfire could kill just as effectively if a round happened to find its way to you, no matter how unintelligently the trigger was pulled.<br/><br/>As morning prayers in the little village ended, the school house began to get it's first visitors, women covered head-to-toe dropped off their children, carrying in the tiniest and leading the others by the hand.  The few children that the small school supported were all very young, as the older children would be put to work having already been indoctrinated wholly into the religious teachings of the school.<br/><br/>As the last of the morning dew was burned off by the late summer sun, an adult male wearing loose-fitting, traditional garb, strode purposefully toward the entrance of the school building.  Bo eyed the man's features carefully, comparing him with his mental flip file of persons of interest and drawing a blank.  He gently closed his right hand into a fist, signaling to his teammate and shooter, Lieutenant Mark "Salamander" Jones, to hold his fire.  A barely perceptible shift of a leaf told Bo that the man laying next to him had received the message.<br/><br/>Shortly after the man entered the school house, an angry hot orange ball filled Bo's vision.  A concussive shock rumbled over his position, followed quickly by a warm rush of air.  Bo tore his eyes from the scope as pieces of the old rock building came crashing to the earth, billowing smoke and dust blurred the edges of the suddenly quiet village.  Across the vast distance, screams of shock and anguish began to drift.  As the heaviest dust settled, leaving a light smog around the once sturdy building, Bo returned his eye to the glass of his scope.  As the crumbled front opening, that had moments before held a thick wooden door, lept into close view, a small child, no more than three years old, came stumbling out.  His scalp was a black and red bald mass, his left cheek melted to the bone, his mouth was wide open in a silent scream and his arms flailed above his head, one ending in a bloody stump.  Suddenly he pitched forward, landing still atop the hardened earth.</em><br/><br/>Bo set up quickly, his heart rate slightly elevated, as he registered his surroundings; the plush bed, the warm, richly appointed room, and the carved ceiling returned his quick glances.  Island.  Castle.  Experiment.  He glanced at the rubber diver's watch on his left wrist, noting that he had awakened with time to spare.  It was then that he noticed his right hand, still balled into a fist.  Consciously, he relaxed it, straightening out his fingers.  Strange, he thought.  He hadn't thought of that boy much since that day, and this was the first dream that he could recall having about his past life.  Why now, he wondered.  His finger went instinctively to the tender spot just below his right rib cage.  Regrets were a natural part of life that trained operators were taught to accept, as decisions made in the moment often cost lives.  The only bad decisions were the ones that cost lives on your side.  Bo never expected that he would be one of the ones that were whispered about in secret, the ones who had such dreams, and the stark reminder of that moment sent a wave of heartache washing over him that stunned him into momentary inaction.<br/><br/>Stubbornly pushing the feeling away, he rose quickly to his feet and made his way to the bathroom where he splashed cold water from the sink onto his face.  Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he locked eyes with himself and took a deep, steadying breath.  A clouded memory of the little boy's burnt face clung to the edge of his vision, but he shook it loose, reaching over to turn the shower water to the warm position.  As the warm water flowed over his body, he began to focus on the evening ahead, feeling the light tingle of anticipation building deep within.  If his new friends, he couldn't think of them as family yet, were as well matched as he was told to expect, then he figured the evening ahead to be a comfortable one.  Once everyone had overcome their inevitable initial nervousness.  Of which, he felt a little within himself and smiled.  The anticipation wasn't quite as intense as standing in an open C130 waiting to walk out the back ramp at 30,000 feet for a HALO jump, but he was still surprised at the tingling in the pit of his stomach.  Starting this new life held hope for many wonderful experiences ahead.  As these thoughts raced through his mind, he toweled off and stood naked in front of the mirror, allowing himself to air dry while finishing his preparation.  He ran a comb through his hair, brushed his teeth with his usual toothpaste, and applied his standard deodorant, all of which were sitting in his vanity, along with some other necessities that had been provided for him.  Padding out of the bathroom across the soft carpeting, he walked into his closet and surveyed the clothing that had also been provided at his request.  Fine clothes didn't travel well in duffel bags.  Selecting a deep blue suit, he pulled on the soft slacks and matched it with a solid white button-up shirt which he left unfastened at the collar.  A black leather belt and soft leather loafers finished the business casual attire.  The matching socks he had found in one of the drawers.  The soft cotton boxer briefs had traveled with him.  The deep blue jacket, he left on its hanger.<br/><br/>The walk-in closet contained a wide, full length mirror.  Glancing in it one last time, Bo pronounced himself ready to mingle and headed out the door, leaving his rubber diver's watch behind on the night stand beside his bed.  Where he was going tonight, he wouldn't need to know how deep he was underwater, nor when to come up for air.  Looking around, he already knew.<br/><br/><em>(moving to the  Great Hall (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=86351.msg3809612#msg3809612)</em>)<br/><br/>