Mark sighed in agony, looking desperately at the coffee machine that refused to pour him the hot beverage.
"Damn..." he swore under his breath.
He remembered all the mornings when he would have a nice cup of coffee to start the day off and how he took them all for granted. In his moment of despair, he heard the door of the cafeteria open. Like a beacon of hope with a northern English accent, none other than Mike Baker himself entered the room. Not that Mark really cared much about it. He respected the man, but thought him too old for this line of work.
"Mornin'..." Baker greeted him while yawning.
"Morning." Mark answered coldly without giving him a single look.
After giving up on the coffee machine, he shifted his focus to the fridge, hoping he would find some delicious food. When he saw the beautiful BLT sandwich sitting peacefully on a plate, his eyes glistened with joy. There was only one small flaw. A torn piece of paper with the word SMOKE scribbled on it. Mark simply scoffed and discarded the – to him – insignificant note. Taking a seat at one of the tables, he turned to Mike who was just about to try and get himself some coffee. Chandar could've told him that the machine was broken, but where'd be the fun in that? He sat back in his chair and awaited the man's undoubtedly over-the-top reaction.
Mike pressed the coffee button and just like Mark thought, absolutely nothing happened. He pressed it again and just like before, nothing.
"Fuckin'..." he muttered.
Chandar's mouth curved into a grin. Baker tried pushing the button once more and this time, when no liquid came pouring into the cup, he struck the machine.
"Bloody bastard!" he spat profanity at the inanimate object before sitting down opposite Mark, who had just taken a bite from his juicy delicious sandwich, with his face adorned by a satisfied smirk.
" 'Ave you seen the other blokes?" Baker asked.
Mark paused for a brief moment while still chewing the heavenly sandwich. He conjured up an image of Sledge training the cadets in his mind, which was the most probable scenario. When he thought of Smoke, he imagined him snoring loudly in his bed. He obviously had a decent idea of the men's whereabouts, but since he didn't feel like explaining it, he simply shook his head in response to Mike's question and continued eating.
The man sighed with disappointment. He desperately wanted to speak to Seamus about the Rainbow program. Completely out of the blue, breaking the silence in the room was a shout. But not just any shout, oh no, but a shout yelled in Highland Scottish. Instantly, Mike recognised the accent as well as the voice that he found oh so comical. Without a doubt in his head he knew that the source of the screaming was Seamus.
" 'Scuse me, son," he excused himself, to which Mark only responded with a silent nod.
Baker left the cafeteria and headed to the courtyard. There he was – Sledge – in all his sweaty muscular glory, doing push-ups with all the cadets. Mike approached him so that his knee could almost touch the man's head.***
"Startin' early today, are we Cowden?" he asked, looking down at the giant man.
Seamus stood up. He towered over Mike who wasn't exactly a short man. Cowden's skin was glistening with sweat and he was panting in exhaustion. Nonetheless, he still had his usual optimistic happy-go-lucky smile stretched across his otherwise unfriendly looking face.
"Aye, best time to start is early," he explained with a joyful tone.
"Alright lads, you did well today! Dismissed!" he commanded the cadets who were still doing push-ups.
They left the courtyard in a big group, showering Seamus with grateful comments and praise. Mike beckoned Seamus back inside the base. He was thinking about Rainbow and what it would mean for them to join the program. Not worried about it per se, rather he was sceptical. Mike had never heard of this 'program'. When he was contacted by some American woman who called herself Six, claiming she was part of the government, she told him to gather three of the best SAS soldiers besides himself and come to the Hereford base. Needless to say, it all sounded a bit suspicious to him. He figured Chandar would know about it, but even he had no idea what the program was. Reluctantly, he decided to pick the three operators. After all, the meeting point was said to be the Hereford SAS base. Even if it was a scheme, he figured it must be some program his superiors have greenlit.
"What do you think of this Rainbow shite?" Mike asked as he was walking to the base with Cowden by his side.
"Whatever it is, we'll deal with it, lad," he reassured him with optimism.
"It's bloody abnormal how alright you are with this," Baker retorted.
"I never said I was alright with it, but it seems like an order from high up to me," Seamus explained.
Mike scoffed, sceptical about it all.
"I'll get Mark, we're leaving in an hour," Cowden stated.
"In a fuckin' hour?! I 'aven't even 'ad my mornin' coffee yet, fuck's sake." Mike replied, clearly angry.
"No, I'll get Chandar, you get Porter. I am not dealing with that bastard," he added.
Seamus agreed, but was slightly disappointed he got the short end of the stick. The men parted ways at the cafeteria's entrance, with Cowden heading upstairs where Porter's quarters were. Upon reaching the entrance to the room where sleeping beauty was, he knocked on the door. At first, he was met by silence, but he persisted and knocked again, this time a bit harder. Still no response.
"Third time's the charm," Seamus said to himself.
He only managed to knock once before a raspy voice called out from the other side.
"Piss off, wanker!"
Seamus smirked.
"That wasn't very nice, Jim," he replied.
"Don't fucking call me Jim and fuck off!" Porter yelled back.
"We're leaving in an hour, lad," Cowden calmly explained.
The next few seconds were filled with silence. Suddenly, the door opened and James was glaring at Seamus from the other side, dressed in nothing but his underwear, looking like he just rose from his own grave.
"Which part of 'piss off' do ya not understand?" he angrily inquired.
"The whole thing. Now c'mon, move your arse and get dressed. Mike is driving us to the Hereford base," Cowden answered.
"Not only do you wake me up at five fucking thirty, but you're also gonna let Margaret drive? Fuck me," he expressed.
"Just get ready, Jim," Seamus ordered with a smirk on his face.
"I told ya not to call me that," James retorted before slamming the door behind him, right into his Sledge's face.
Cowden spent the next few minutes waiting in front of his room, wondering how someone like James Porter is one of the four best SAS soldiers in the world. He thought back to the time when he first met him. He couldn't quite decide whether he should be intimidated by him or if he simply found him ridiculous. The man's scarred face certainly brought out an unnerving feeling in people, but even though his voice was gruff and curt, his accent was comical. A clusterfuck of many dialects jumbled into one defective speech. All that was just trivial, however. The one thing that really made Seamus have certain doubts about James was his practices in the field of battle. The use of toxic gas is one thing, but to actually enjoy it is something completely different. Nonetheless, he simply couldn't deny Porter's efficiency and skill.
The door opened and out walked James. With Seamus by his side, he walked downstairs to meet with the rest of the team.
"Why are we joining the homo special forces anyway?" he asked in his usual curt manner of speaking.
"Because we're the elite of the SAS, the four best soldiers in the unit," Seamus replied.
"Uh-huh, alright..." James muttered, deep in thought.
"But then, why are they recruiting you three?" he added, smirking arrogantly.
Cowden nudged him in the arm, chuckling.
"I'm only mucking about," Porter responded with a snigger.
"Are ya actually gonna let Marge drive?" he asked.
"Aye," Sledge responded.
"You've gotta be taking a piss, mate," he commented.
When they reached the cafeteria, Mike and Mark were already stood in front of the entrance, ready to leave.
"Mornin' Porter, you alright?" Mike greeted him.
"Been better, mate," he replied.
Mark, like always, stayed silent, judging everyone without saying a word. With Seamus in the front leading the group, they left the base behind.
"I've got something really special for you lot," Mike exclaimed while reaching for his glove compartment and pulling out a cassette.
With a collective sigh from everyone else present in the Land Rover, he put it inside the player and the song Paint it Black by the Rolling Stones started playing.
"Ah, fuck me..." James swore to himself.
"Learn some culture you bastards!" Mike added.
This was going to be a long car journey.