Yousef waited a little longer for his muscles to cool and finally managed to get the zipper to the close point.  He breathed out and could feel the suit straining to contain his massive bulk.  He flexed a few times and listened to the thing creak and groan like it would burst at any second, yet he knew that it would take more than his meager strength to actually tear the advanced armour.  He did his level best to ignore the harmless flirtation between Marcus and Mea... even their damned names fit together... Yousef... calm... remember the training... His mind floated back to his Mossad days and the grueling hours spent learning the various techniques of meditation and finding the switch... It would take him the rest of the flight, simply him alone in his mind, staring out of the window as the world passed by.  But when he came to, he was Tank.  Yousef was a pipedream and human, Tank was all business.  He was the wall between his team and death.  He was the line between the enemy and friends.  His eyes held that far away look that only the haunted veterans truly understood, all of the team had been forced to do bad things at one point or another, but Tank was the one that Mossad had made to do these things.  It was his sole purpose in life, to eliminate threats and defend assets.  Rarely, Yousef would struggle back to the surface and was the only reason that he ever broke protocol and assisted Mea without her knowledge.  But Tank always resumed and completed the mission to perfection.