The mercenary stoically puffed on her cigarette throughout the conversation. She offered nothing for or against — it was foolhardy, but there was nothing but foolhardy options going forward. At the end, she dropped her cigarette and stomped it out with her boot.
“Before buying my scorpion, my mates and I were infantry only. My troops are bonafide experts at street-fighting. My suggestion?” Helena gestured at her clothing under the webbing. They weren’t anything close to a military uniform. “We’ll already be shot fer being foreign nationals assisting a rebellion. Street clothes. Not guns blazing. Meet our cells and leaders and mayor and the fockin’ blue meanie before the battle starts. Faulky, yaouw may be a bloody Irishwoman, but we’ve got Yanks, Poles, Japanese and Krauts here. I trust yaouw the most, keep my Scorpion safe. That thing’s expensive.” Helena stopped for a moment, looking to each of her friends, and the brigadier as well.
“You are all my friends, but I get paid fer my work. I expect ter get that money once we’re done. We’ll do it.”
Though the answer was expected, tension visibly relieved in multiple shoulders around the table. Gena clapped the merc on the shoulder, grinning like mad.
“Consider it wired as soon as I have a line to my funds. Glad to have you on board, Hase.” The Irishwoman tapped two fingers to her beret.
“She’ll be safe as feckin’ ‘ouses with me, mate, not a worry.” Natalie looked almost... grumpy, but it was hard to determine if that was any different from the usual scowl the Pole sported.
“Once more, we send our brightest star headfirst into the unknown. Though I am loathe to acknowledge it, Romele, you’re crucial for the morale in this outfit, up high and down low. If I hadn’t learned my lesson by now, I’d protest you going, so I’ll instead tell you to be fucking careful. Your plan consists of strolling into the snake’s nest, and we may fall apart if you don’t come back alive. No risks, you hear me?” That was, in the most backhanded way possible, touching, as far as preemptive reprimands go.
“Aww, Nat, see how much you care? Let it be known the Pole loves me as much as anyone else here.”
“Still not sleeping with you.”
“Damn. So close!” Lin, fingers at her temples, sighs, and the Brigadier just shakes his head, clearly used to the banter. When the laughter settled, Lin redirected the lot.
“Ladies. Business. Let’s get plans in motion for the actual logistics of the operation.” And so the conversation went on, for quite a while. Longer than it needed to, of course, because of how many times the conversation sidetracked somewhere completely different.
In the end, though, it was settled which unit would set off with Gena’s command element and the mercenaries, times, places, and many of the minutiae that probably didn’t need to be discussed at the map table.
“That looks like everything. Any other questions or suggestions?” Gena, much more tired sounding than at the start of the meeting, didn’t actually wait for any other questions or suggestions.
“Great! It’s settled. Everyone’s dismissed, and if I remember correctly it’s Nat’s turn to host whatever card game you degenerates decide to play, as long as it’s not fucking Kalashnikov again.” The Pole crinkled her nose, muttering something about no one having good taste in card games.
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