Melinda slid off the back of the truck, sinking a little into the loose dirt. Rapping the truck again to catch the driver's attention, she flashed him a peace sign in appreciation of the ride across the base before turning towards Hinckley and the other soldiers. A snappy salute came almost as soon as Melinda came to a stop. The formal exchange of orders came soon after.<br/><br/><div align="center">----</div><br/>They were doing it again. Doing stuff for her. Of the many things one could do, there was one thing that irked Melinda and that was doing things for her and giving her things. Melinda had been given things as a youth and, as she matured and came about worldly experience, came to hate when people gave her anything significant unless she specifically asked. Still, she knew better than to bruise egos or give an poor first impression by insisting she carry her own bags and coming across as cold and aloof. The Army had a thing about respect, at any rate, and one way of engraining that value was assisting your fellow soldiers.<br/><br/>"Good to meet you too, Sergeant," Rook said, voice strong if a little dry from having been quiet throughout the helicopter ride and shook Hightower's hand. Hinckley and Hightower no doubt had much to catch her up on as the three of them walked towards the Orderly tent. She held her tongue and paid rapt attention as they launched into a quick report on what she had been thrown into.<br/><br/>Funny that Hinckley mentioned Vietnam. Captain Wright, an officer she had worked with as a cadet, had mentioned the same thing in context of Iraq and Afghanistan. It had been both a good and bad thing. On one hand, multiple tours of duty had given troops experience at war and with the culture that aided in General Petraeus's new strategy to deal with the insurgency. On the other hand, the cost in people and time was straining as that experience was often hard won and occasionally bloody.<br/><br/>Though as the officers filled in the details, the situation hardly seemed the same. The FARC, backed by the Venezuelan government and trained by experienced professionals, was more than just an insurgency hiding among the populace. Making deals and winning over enemies did not seem like a viable strategy, at least on a large scale. The people in Washington had come to the same conclusion, apparently. One doesn't send in a Special Forces team with a two-month long plan to exploit a weakness and attack leaders of the opposition in order to turn enemies in to allies.<br/><br/>Military career. Strangely, as they entered the Orderly tent, Melinda realized she had never really thought about being in the military as a career. Career made it sound like it was a office job where you talk around water coolers, get promotions by coming up with ways to increase profit by 10%, and attend company retreats to Aspen. The military for Melinda had always just been about her purpose and about her team, at least in the course of doing her duties. With a little bit of chagrin, the current slogan of "Army Strong" came to mind.<br/><br/>"I'm not going to test my luck and say I hope I don't let the General - or you - down," Rook said, self-consciously brushing away some sweat slicked hair away from her eyes. There was that scrutiny again by people far away she didn't know about. At least she had met the Captain, cementing him for the moment as far more important than General Hart. Promise or politics, all Melinda wanted was to just do her duty, bring order to chaos, and make sure everyone got home. She lacked the Machiavellian streak to excel in politics; as Rook absorbed the information, she hoped she wasn't getting too caught up in something. For that matter, she hoped she wasn't missing some political piece of the Columbian puzzle.<br/><br/>"This brouhaha is probably worse for the Delta team than it is for me, anyway," She left it unspoken that she was talking about the heavy 'endorsement' by Senator Boxer and remembering Spaight from the helicopter, "I'm going to guess they don't like much publicity. What are my orders until Delta Lead tells us what the plan is? Is there anything else can you tell me about the situation?"<br/><br/>She paused briefly before remembering the orders she had been given from General Paine. Digging into her pocket to touch the sealed envelope addressed to General Callahan to make sure that it was still there, Melinda added as she pulled the partially crumpled envelope out, "I also have orders to give this to General Callahan."