Shock sprang across his normally emotionless and hardened face... his eternal cavalier smirk lost to time...<br/><br/>"Dead..." Christoph, Dead. The words didn't fit.  He had talked to him just a few days before, had dinner with his family and kids.  Dead.  The word seemed so final... especially now.  Christoph, while a complete goofball, was a fine agent and knew his shit.  He suddenly needed a hug if the whole team had been taken.  For the first time in his life, Yousef the "Tank" needed a very reassuring hug.  He recalled each team member in turn as he reached his hand out to place it on the Major's shoulder.  It was out of line for him to do so, but he needed something to hold him up after the news.  His face even turned a little pale.<br/><br/>Jenny, a hot little item that loved to mix it up melee.  He remembered how she would flip up from the bed, directly from the riding position he had her in, before neatly jumping back on.<br/><br/>Dave, that guy.  A crazy bookworm with a flair for really big handguns... Nutter.<br/><br/>Marcus... the russian who knew how to drink... Wodka is Wodka Yousef! he would say and they would tear up the town they were in.<br/><br/>