Introduction. IC(in character): You find yourself lying down in a hospital bed, staring at the clinical white ceiling and trying to remember how you got there. Just as you get over most of your woziness and manage to get to your feet, the door of the room opens. In steps a young NCO. He has no military insignia except for a strange gold X inside of a circle on both collars. "Could you come with me please" says the young NCO. He then holds the door open for you to follow him out. Once you are outside in the non-descript corridor he starts walking at a brisk military pace up the corridor. You are to disorientated to do anything but follow this strange man. After many twistings and turnings he finally leads you into a large conferance room. On one wall is a large red flag which has on it a large X inside a circle. Severally other people are either already in the room or just arriving as you are. Once you are inside the NCO leaves. Several people are introducing themselves around the room, others are discussing how exactly they got here. You notice all of them are wearing non-descript grey jump suits. Near the door you came through is a military emergency phone, its location is printed on it but you are two far away to make it out. Robert: Robert moans and leans against the doorway. A tall, well built man in his late twenties, his severely chisled face is topped with straight brown hair and in slightly recessed eye sockets lie soft brown eyes. His skin is slightly tanned, and has a reddish tinge to it. Holding his head he glances around at the other grey-jumpsuited inhabitants. Refusing to sit despite the world's spinning, he stands, awkwardly, against the wall. Mumbling something under his breath he glances around at the room, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs from his mind. Bits and pieces of his training on being captured floated to the fore-front of his consciousness, and his eyes, having something to do, warily zipped around the room, cateloguing entrances, exits, cameras, phones into a mental picture of the room. Closing his eyes for a minute to compile the mental catelogue, he looks up and around, examining each of the fellow inmantes. Sucking in a breath, he enunciates clearly and loudly. "Where the hell am I? And who's in charge here?" Susan: Susan Washington quickly aclimated and tallied up the situation. She was a major with the 101st airborne Rangers, it was what a commanding officer was supposed to do. The other in room seemed to carry themselves with military crispness. Without unifroms, she did not know the rank structure nor who was in charge. Without a proper rnak structure, Susan felt obligated to form one but she was not in the modd to go tell some higher ranking officer to fall to rank and file. Best to do this one a one by one basis. With confidence and a swagger that both showed off her military training yet also her lean body, Susan walked up to someone in theR room. With a firm and crisp solute, "Major Susan Washington. 101st Airborne." She waited for a reply. Anyone who wants to be the person that Maj. Washington just came up to. Nadine: Nadine, still groggy from the "recruitment" gave all her fellow inmates a glare. Pretty mixed bag here, it was obvious, all sorts from all nations. The logo, not from any unit she recognized, was more of a comic book superhero monicker than an actual military designation. "Alright, so whoever's in charge here please stand up? And if this is a joke, do the same thing so I can know who's teeth to kick in for making me miss maneuvers!" With that, she defiantly sat back with her arms crossed, expecting something of an explanation for this. "Where the hell am I? And who's in charge here?" The woman right cross from the table shot him a smile. "Hey genius, I just asked that...." Nadine quipped. "By the way, Riechmann, Nadine, and it looks like the judge has thrown the book at us. Either that, or we're the fictim of a very very elaborate and random prank..." Sven: IC: Sven quietly observed his companions as they belligerantly made their feelings known. He tried to remember how he had gotten into this situation, but despite having beaten the nausea he had felt upon waking up, he could remember nothing. After a little while, a shiver ran down his spine as the realisation that nobody knew anything. His training taught him patience, and that was what he needed at this very moment. Sooner or later, somebody would come and clarify things. In the meanwhile, he spoke with a lilting accent, "Hej, my name is Sven. I also do not know so very well what is going on. Maybe, somebody will come to tell us." Mohd: The first thing that he remembered is he is enjoying a good sleep and suddenly this unfimmiliar surrounding almost overwhelming him.....his first instinct is too reach for his weapon but find himself disarmed. He used to be in hostile country, but this is too abrupt. With confusion he staggered around and he found the room full of other dazed victim like him. He decided to stand back and observe any development.....also for any escape chance. Robert: "Robert Edward Lee Evans...." His eyes instinctively searched for a neck pin or shoulder chevron but he spotted nothing, of course, "ma'am." The bedraggled soldier steps over and holds out a hand to Miss Reichmann as his bearings begin to come back. "You hear what we're here for ma'am?" Sara woke to the discomforting recovery from being heavily sedated. Despite protests, she issued a thought to the rest of her complaining body that a bed seemed a good as any place to find herself in. Her body replied by cataloguing it’s grievances: dizziness, reduction in senses, numbness, reduced awareness, paralysis and impaired motor coordination. She mentally swore, conscious of the sheer volume and hellish mixture of chemicals someone must have pumped into her system. *Barbaric*, she cursed, *with the amount of practice they have had on my body over the last two years*, she grimaced, *someone might have had the courtesy of a least taking note as to what my body’s chemical limits were*. Sara rested further; bringing herself to a half respectable measure of humanity before opening her eyes and looking around from where she lay. Taking in the furnishings, only ‘hospital’ presented itself as a location, but the bland smell of recycled air conditioning, the lack of windows and quietness of non ‘hospital’ like noises refined it to a secured, military and possibly underground infirmary. *Here we go again*, she thought in exasperation, *where have they taken me now*. Her slow movement to the floor, with the discovery that she was clothed – and then the further immediate surprise entry of the NCO, jumped her. Instinctive offensive reactions encouraging her to jump forward and plant her elbow through his solar plexus, before calm conditioning noted that the young man, had not taken hostile moves and in fact had just asked her out politely. She nodded, but made no move to follow the man as he stepped out, instead taking the time to clear her drowsiness, or at least hoping that it would be better. *After all the NCO had said the magic word, it wasn’t an order*. She reasoned. Stepping up finally and taking a few tentative steps, she gained confidence enough to shuffle around the room. Bare, though it was, she hunted for a mirror. Finding none, she improvised with an reflective metal surface. “Ouch” she voiced after seeing herself, clearing her throat. “You look just like I feel”. *Absolutely f***king unbelievable*, she continued, tugging the many stray locks into place. Long moments later and despite her training she gave up her enforced task as a lost cause. Rambling out of door, she followed the military man at her own pace, her eyes challenging him every time he waited for her. Eventually they reached their destination, Sara apparently late as she viewed all the people already gathered. Obviously as worse for wear as she was, in many cases even worse, most of them had not taken the time to rest, nor taken the scenic stroll to this meeting. Sara took advantage of this, standing a little straighter and a little steadier, walking into the room to take a good look around. Drifting her vision back again to the people, she scanned them thoroughly, committing their features to memory – from her thoughts nothing twitched, no programming rose to the surface. *None of these are my target*, she observed, *although it’s early days yet, could even possibly a pure infiltration and surveillance job*. Sara found a chair, calmly sat down on it and waited. Waited for anyone to talk to her, waited for a trigger event to happen and definitely waited for that infuriating voice in the back of her mind to instruct her into what to do next and what her mission was.