A helicopter hovered over the coast of Thailand. Inside, a mission briefing was wrapping up.
"So you have your orders. Godspeed, Quartermaster, and don't screw this up." Cameron Campbell, brown hair flowing in the wind from the open bay of the helicopter, finished up with a jab of his finger. "Don't forget, if anything goes wrong here, it's your family on the line."
The Quartermaster, clad in a wetsuit and backpack, grunted, then turned to face the twin horizon of deep blue ocean and bright sky. With a short hop, he dropped out of the chopper.
"That four-eyed bastard, show him to beat me at poker," Campbell said to no one in particular as the helicopter flew away.
Meanwhile, the Quartermaster was deploying his parachute. His descent slowed, but only moments later he unbuckled himself from the parachute, dropping the last twenty feet or so into the water with a splash.
Another hour or so of flailing in the water later, he finally arrived at the coast. From there, he unzipped the wetsuit, revealing… far too much.
.
The Quartermaster did up the last button on the tuxedo he'd had stored in the bag he brought. With that, he was ready to start the infiltration. He only needed to trek through the jungle here to make it to the site of his target's home.
He'd walked a good mile into the trees… when suddenly, from out of the bushes, a rhino came charging!
With no time to react, the Quartermaster swung his one good fist, socking the rhino right in the face! But the rhino wasn't going to give up that easily. It snarled and stamped the ground, determined to gouge the old man!
But old QM wasn't going to go down that easily. He reached into his bag, switching out his hook hand for something else. The rhino approached with death in its eyes, ready to charge again. For a moment time seemed to stand still-but then the Quartermaster whipped out his rhino-repellent-spray-hand! With one good spray, the rhino ran away!
"Hrm." The Quartermaster grunted, before swapping his hand out again, this time for his trusty grappling-hook-hand. With careful aim and a burst of kinetic energy, the hook flew through the air, digging itself into the roof of the mansion that was just barely visible through the foliage.
The rope retracted, pulling the dapper Quartermaster up onto the roof. His next target: the skylight.
Below, in a well-appointed office, was the target. A dragon sculpture, made of fine jade and with ruby eyes, sat on a pedestal in a glass case. Nearby but paying no attention to the dragon, a heavy-set bespectacled Thai man wearing an expensive-looking suit was talking heatedly on the phone.
The Quartermaster knew this would be the tricky part. Carefully he unlocked the skylight, lifting up a pane so that he could rappel down directly to the target. Quietly, quietly, sneaky, sneaky…
CRASH. He lost his grip on the rope and fell directly on top of the treasure, shattering the glass case. He sat there a little dazed for a moment.
Mere feet away from him, the Thai businessman continued yelling at the phone, somehow completely oblivious to the commotion behind him. The Quartermaster took the chance to retrieve the jade dragon, then grabbed the rope… which fell into the office with him. Somehow or other it had gotten unhooked.
"Hrm," he grunted.
Suddenly, alarms started going off! The businessman swiveled around as armed bodyguards rushed into the room, rifles all aimed at the Quartermaster. For a moment, it looked like the old man was doomed.
"Hrm," he grunted again. "Guess it's Rambo time." In a flash, he'd whipped out no fewer than six guns! His tuxedo bulged, then burst as his ripped pecs came to the fore. He let out a guttural warcry, gunning down one guard after another and soaking up bullets without a care-
"Okay this is getting way too unrealistic," Neil said, breaking the flow of the story.
"Hmmm… yeah, I guess you're right," said Nikki, who had been telling the story. "Quartermaster would never wear a tuxedo. He's more of a tailcoat kind of guy."
"Are there even rhinos in Thailand?" Max asked.
"Actually multiple species of rhino are native to Thailand," Neil answered.
"Huh. Points for accuracy there at least. Why the fuck did he need to be wearing a tuxedo though?"
"Because that's what international superspies wear!"
The three of them were buckled up in the back seat of the camp station wagon after an impromptu hospital trip. Outside the sun was starting to set.
"That story was almost as bad as the stomach pump," Neil said, clutching his recently pumped stomach. "Anyway I really doubt the Quartermaster is some kind of international superspy…"
"Well let's ask him then! Hey Quartermaster!" Nikki yelled at their chauffeur for the evening. "You ever steal any national secrets?"
"Break into any military compounds?" Neil tacked on.
"Assassinate any political figures?" Max rounded out the questioning.
The Quartermaster only grunted, eyes fixed on the road ahead. The trio wouldn't be getting any answers out of the famously taciturn Quartermaster.
"Well it's the only reasonable explanation," Nikki said, returning her attention to the other two kids.
"That wasn't reasonable at all," Neil said.
"Oh yeah? Well then what do you think the Quartermaster's deal is, huh?"
"Well…"