<div align="center"><strong>Siouxsie addresses Group I, followed by Chief Michels</strong></div><br/><br/><br/>Everyone that was going to show had pretty much arrived within a minute or two of each other. This was good in that she wasn't going to have to repeat herself. It was still bad because the one person who even vaguely understood her was gone due to family issues. This left her with a vacuum of leadership right on the eve of sending a group of her agents into a third world country besieged with war from multiple feuding factions and a gnarly rift assassin-dude. She removed her sunglasses, squinting her bright blue eyes in the sunlight to look at all of them with the kind of gravity that only a person who was weighing each individual would have. Finally she spoke, her tone depicting her displeasure, "Pancho's out - for good. His mother was diagnosed with Stage IV breast cancer. His dad's too old to handle all of the care she's going to need, you know, hospital visits, treatment runs, all of that. Anyways, he's done with this life, going to use his savings to pay for her medical expenses. Always has been a good guy..." She trailed off, frowned deeply for a moment and then her expression cleared.<br/><br/>"Semi, it's on you. You're in charge of this mission. Handle it as well as I hope, you might find yourself promoted," she said, offering a smile she didn't feel. "I have no doubts about your abilities to get this job done," she went back to addressing everyone else. "Good news is there is no additional news, which means Ferret's contact is probably still in. Last I heard the Rangers were still Go for support. If they do come in, just stand back, they make a mess," she said as she replaced her sunglasses over her gloomy eyes. Turning, Siouxsie walked around them and clapped them each on their shoulders - except for Semi who she nailed in the middle of his back due to his immense height. Then she snapped her fingers and Ferdi stood up and trotted after her as she headed towards her car, glinting sky blue in the glaring white light of the sun.<br/><br/>By then, the Datsun had been loaded onto the Chinook and the crew chief approached them with his olive drab helmet and dark shades covering most of his grizzled face. He was carrying a box of MRE's and set it down in front of them. His name was Michels, they had seen him several times during missions when they'd used the Chinook to travel to their destinations. Michels seemed to know who was in charge, which meant he had been told what had happened prior to their arrival. He looked up at Semi and spoke, "These are for you guys, mostly Beef Stew and Chili-mac. Water's in the boxes in the back. You have to wear helmets when we're taking off and when we're landing - of and if we're crashing make sure you slip that bad boy back on your noggin'," he said a little too happily. "We fly in five mikes, get your gear and get to your seats to strap in!" he said, meaning they would be sitting for roughly 14 hours on cargo net seats. It was going to be cozy, but with Pancho gone it guaranteed some leg room.