"Cold Feet"

01/22/2012 - 06:38:49

Sgt. Ash Kline

Private Selection Officer

SAS Headquarters - Hereford, UK

As the niece of General Shepherd, Ash tried very hard to be the perfect soldier. She knew exactly how the system worked, who to trust and who to avoid. At an early age she had read every book, website and source she could get her hands on. It had paid off in her career, but never in the eyes of her uncle. Despite working away her years and sacrificing her childhood, he never looked at her with pride. Therefore, Ash never revealed that they were related to anyone. Along with the fact that he was her only living family member. Even that was a stretch, the brother of her mother wasn't the familial type. But Sgt. Kline trusted him with her life and more.

Probably to an unhealthy amount, Kline thought perspectively, now an experienced adult. She felt the helicopter descend upon British soil. It brought her back to the first few times she had visited. This round however, instead of kit and camo she bore her uniform. It was fitting since she was about to meet some of the most deadly people in the country. She left the landing pad and walked around the base with an air of insight. It had changed very little since she last set foot on the runway years ago. There were two individuals here that her uncle had intended for her to recruit. The last three days had been grueling to get all of the international contracts sorted and officialize the new unit. Her uncle named the unit, Task Force 141. He even had Ash design a logo that was meant to be the emblem of killers. As much as she despised this aspect of war, she complied.

Ash didn't grow up religious. But she soon found the avenue far more satisfactory and safe in a job full of demons. It kept her head above water, in a world convincing her she should drown. With this in the back of her mind she was more prepared to face men who were suffocating, if not at the very depths of life's oceans. The first one she was to see was John Mactavish and his CO, John Price. Intel said they were both residing here in sentimentality. It had been exactly a year since their mission to the ICBM Launch Facility.

She walked on, entering what looked to be the indoor testing course. It was active, several men in observation while others were on the track. In a quick glance she captured each of their faces, finding none to be the potential recruits. Leaving the warehouse she caught a glimpse of an individual having a smoke on the outskirts of the runway. It wasn't until she was within a few feet did he turn to see her. There was obvious hostility in his pale colored eyes.

"The hell do you want?" he gruffly asked. His speech was heavily laced in a Scotts accent, Sgt. Kline had to withhold her analytical processes firing away. Reading about elite soldiers and meeting them in person were two entirely different experiences.

"Representative for General Shepherd, I'm here to brief you on your possible reassignment," she flatly replied, unphased by his aggressive growl that followed. Nevertheless she continued, "You are the best candidate for a lieutenant's position, joint-military operators. Special ops in targetting terrorist individuals. Full leave and pension is included." Out of military habit Mactavish turned to look at her as she spoke. In turn she adjusted the hard covered binder in her grip while staring intently back into his frosty eyes. He drew a long one from his cigar before tossing it onto the ground, letting it simmer in the snow.

"You a pet to the General?" he unexpectedly asked. Kline wasn't prepared to answer such a deep question. It took a moment for her to recuperate before she managed to reply.

"Just as much as you, sir. If you sign the contract," Kline nodded slowly, deciding that the view of the distant hills were so beautiful at just that second she had to gaze out at it. With a tentative step she turned to face the same direction as Mactavish and breathed in the crisp British air. It took a good few minutes for either of them to speak up. This time, Mactavish was far less hostile.

"You know who I am, don't ya?"

"Of course."

"Then tell me who you are," he requested. It sounded more out of fair play then pure curiosity. So the recruiter complied.

"Sergeant Ash Kline, ex-Medical Corps and worked for the DLA. Now I'm assigned to recruit the best soldiers in the world for this man-hunt of the most dangerous tango out there."

"Big boots to fill," Mactavish observed in reference to her near two meter stature. His insult was received and accounted for. It certainly wasn't the first. She forced out her winning smile, as always keeping her true thoughts deep down in her chest.

"Which is why I'd like to find your CO. He's highly recommended for the Captain's position."

"Good luck, when Price wants to be alone. He'll be alone for as long as he bloody wants," Mactavish smirked. It was hidden under a layer of guilt but Kline found it easy enough to spot behind the light stubble. She decided that his word was highly trustworthy so they returned to staring in the vast detail of the glades beyond. The morning sun began to rise into the sky and make the frostbitten ground sparkle. Ash admired it for a while when she remembered the few travel forms she meant to edit in the heli. With her right hand she flipped open her binder, clicking a pencil with her left. Mactavish gazed at her for a moment.

"Lefty?"

"Amadexrious."

"Handy."

"Pun intended?"

"No, just came out," Soap admitted. This made Kline smile, for real this time. Within a few minutes she had her edits filed out and sighed, pulling at her collar.

"I hope I dressed well enough for the occasion," she said, facing the soldier with a somber glance. "I'm sorry today was the one scheduled for me to come out. The General insisted." Mactavish rubbed his close shaven fohawk and shuffled in his place.

"Not your fault," he grumbles, crossing his arms. "Probably wanted you to pull a trigger inside us, promising we'll slot ten tangos for every operative killed in Altay Mountains."

"I thought so too," Ash mumbled, disappointed in her uncle's lack of sensitivity. Glancing around, her transport was still on the pad. Having been trained in situational meetings she made her decision. Despite how it may be upsetting to the General. Pulling at the radio clipped to her belt she dialed the chopper. "You boys go enjoy the sites at the base closer to town. Pick up at 1900." Before she could hear the rebuttal she clicked off her comms and waited patiently for the bird to ascend back into the air. After several minutes it did so, heading to a joint base to refuel as well as enjoy the famous city of London. Mactavish watched the Sergeant curiously.

"Not gonna get in trouble for that?"

"I'm a pet with a pretty long leash," Ash replied, pulling gum from a discreet pocket and popping it into her mouth. She then proceeded to take off her stiff jacket and fold it casually over her shoulder. "I was a medic for a long time sir, I know how horrible anniversaries can be. My cope was to ignore them and go to the range. Care to join me?"