Almost half a day later Elsa—wearing her regular pristine officer's uniform—is striding with purpose into the conference room. The chatter of the people standing and sitting around the table hush and all eyes turn to her. Slowly, Elsa drags her eyes from one person to the next.
The first one she sees is Major Belle, someone she's been working with even closer than normal ever since Kristoff delivered her unit's orders. Belle is a former high-ranking intelligence operative with an eidetic memory and a self-taught protégé in the art of medicine and poison. She joined Elsa's physiological warfare unit—one of six—after her fiancée Adam, a Corporal in the infantry at the time, was used in the Beast experiment.
The half-beast half-human effect the project had killed every one of the soldiers involved. Her superiors tried to keep it from her, but it's hard to hide information from the one person in your office who can find anything on anyone, no matter where the data is hidden. She wears SWAT boots, dark navy cargos and a tight baby blue t-shirt. The tattoo "Long live the Beast" is in cursive down her left forearm.
The second and third Elsa sees is Captain Mulan and General Li Shang, although 'General' is more of a formality considering he's a Colonel's suburbanite. Mulan and Shang were both former heavy armour and weapon specialists, though it was their martial art abilities that allowed them to get out alive when their unit was massacred. Their heads never settled back the right way and Belle, finding their therapists' reports, instantly had them transferred to Elsa. Although they both always wear complete black—combats, cargos, and tank tops—in the field they are often donning heavy protective gear or armour.
The fourth is Lieutenant Merida, a Scottish firecracker who listens to no one—even her superiors—unless they've earned her respect. Merida was a grade A sniper in the special forces, but her unit leader tried to have her ousted for an attitude adjustment, to which Merida responded to by spitting in his eye. Again, Belle snatched up the information and transferred the girl to Elsa's team before she was arrested. Merida's attire is SWAT boots, camouflage pants, a black tank top and elbow-length leather gloves meant for archery.
The fifth is Second Lieutenant Blanchette, otherwise known as Red. She was in a regular infantry unit when her team came across an ally town that had been butchered and put on display much like physiological warfare teams—enemy and ally alike—are known for. Long story short she lost her marbles, went AWOL, killed a bunch of enemy soldiers—always by ripping open their stomach and scattering their entrails—and was transferred to Elsa's unit when Belle got a fix on her. Red's normal attire is crimson leather boots, crimson cargos, black t-shirt with red trimming, and a crimson half face mask.
The sixth is Private M. Pocahontas, otherwise known as Hound. She's a native who's reserve was razed by an enemy assault team with a commander John Smith. John took an interested and, claiming her for himself, declared only he was allowed to have his way with her. Hound listened as her friends and family were assaulted—in the many meanings of the word—day and night and something inside her snapped. She killed John and half his team before reinforcements—Elsa's team, ironically—came and did in the rest. Like Elsa had done with Anna, she pushed through Hound's enrolment and transfer orders. Hound's attire is combats, native style breeches and an off-white tunic. A machete is always strapped to her lower back.
The seventh is Master Corporal Rapunzel, who prefers the nickname Punz. Unlike the rest of the lunatics on the team, Punz isn't criminally insane. She's far from being soft like Kristoff, but she's not one to dive into the mess of blood and guts that everyone else has. Belle just happened to find out that Punz was a supply soldier who didn't care what she did or what channels she used to get what she wanted, and va-va-voom – she was transferred. Her normal clothing is navy converses, blue jeans, and a multi-coloured plaid collared shirt. Her pet chameleon, Pascal, is always netted on her shoulder. She has cropped brown hair, although it used to be a long bleached blond before she joined Elsa's unit.
The eighth, of course, is Sergeant Kristoff – the only fish out of water. He wears the regulation uniform, beret and all.
The ninth is Warrant Officer Hans. He's a weasel of a man whose schemes often get him into trouble with both his friends and his foes. No one in the unit likes him. The only reason Elsa doesn't have him transferred is because Hans likes to use enemy soldiers to act out sick fantasies, and she knows what he's capable of if she were to take that away from him. He wears combats, camouflage cargos and a deep orangey-red tank top.
The tenth and final—
Elsa raises an eyebrow.
—Isn't here.
"Where's Anna?" She asks. Belle shrugs.
"Last I checked she was working on one of our other prisoners. Something about wanting him to stew in his own filth for a bit before you take over."
"She gets two in one day?" Red asks, a sneer spreading over her lips. She kicks the table leg. "So unfair."
Elsa raises an eyebrow. "If I'd let you in there his intestines would be hanging around the room. While I appreciate how creative you can be with entrails, this one needed a more external touch." She shrugs. "Depending on what we need from the next one, I'll let you have your way with them."
"Well that's nice." Corporal Anna says as she pushes her way through the doors, wiping her hands off on a bloody cloth. Her clothes—SWATs, black cargos with a green stripe down the side and a green tank top—and skin are spattered with dried, drying and wet blood.
"For fuck sake." Punz spits, her face contorting. "The least you could do is wipe your ass before you walk into a sanitary environment."
Anna smiles, but there's no apology in it. "I lost track of time and didn't want to delay the meeting, so I neglected the half hour make-myself-clean-and-presentable phase in favour of being punctual. Hope you don't mind."
Before some trivial disagreement manifests, Elsa steps forward. Belle takes the hint and turns on the screen at the far end of the room, showing a topographic map with an X on one end and a small square almost two hundred kilometers southwest.
"Earlier today we received orders to take out a small recon team and 'put them on display' to demoralize the rest of their squadron when they march through." Elsa says. She points to the square. "We'll strike in this area tomorrow. We'll get there early to stake it out and to lay any traps you sick psychopaths want to have, and then we'll hide until all targets enter the area. Pretty much it's a get-in-there and do-whatever-the-hell-you-want job so long as we leave a few alive—but beyond saving—and make the area look as disturbing as possible."
"What are they equipped with?" Shang asks, eying the map carefully as it zooms in on the target area. "What are their strengths, weaknesses – what are they trained for?"
Elsa glances to Belle. When their eyes meet, Elsa nods. Nodding in response, Belle selects some options on her tablet—changing the screen to a slide-show of pictures of the unit they're to face—and stands.
"This is an up-and-coming special forces unit with a lot of potential, but they're not combat hardened. They're marching to their first real all-or-nothing battle now, and the top brass wants us to throw them off their game before they get there." Belle swipes her tablet and the screen switches to a verity of weapons. "This is the equipment that they're loaded with."
Mulan frowns. "Is that a transportable torrent?"
"Yes." Belle confirms. "But, from what I've been able to drudge up, I can safely say that it will be back with the main force. It's not mobile enough to use in scouting. Either way, you and Shang have to be on the lookout for heavy loaders, because you're the only two who can take them out."
Merida spies a weapon and snorts. "Look at that pansy excuse for a sniper! I could take out the poor fucker wielding that thing with a compact bow!" As she cackles at her own humour, Hound taps her fingers on the table.
"How trained are they in close quarters?" She asks.
"Very much so." Belle says. "However, they're primarily trained in weapons and will try their best to keep out of close-quarters fighting. If you can get close to them, however, they'll be weighed down by their gear and you'll have the speed advantage. Well, along with being in hand-to-hand life or death combat already – you will sure of your action while I can guarantee they will be at least partially hesitant."
"Are we allowed to play cat and mouse?" Hans asks, a disturbing smile relaxing on his lips.
"No." Elsa says, before Belle can respond. Hans's smile drops.
"You said—"
"The scout team is only going to be an hour in front of the rest of the squadron, tops – what the fuck do you think they're going to do when they start hearing gunfire? And what direction do you think a scout is going to run when being chased?" Elsa asks, her hard eyes boring accusingly into Hans. He sneers.
"What's the point in telling us we can do whatever we want if we can't?" He asks, his teeth grinding together.
Before Elsa can answer, Anna barks a sour, acidic laugh.
"The point is that she knows everyone else will realise that she means 'do whatever you want within the parameters of the surrounding circumstances', you dumb shit. Your mother's uterus can't protect you forever, pretty boy, so why don't you crawl your way out of her cooch before Red slices it open?"
As Hans progressively gets redder, Merida and Punz burst into hysterical laughter. Red looks vaguely amused. For the most part, everyone else—exasperated—bites their tongue as Elsa sends Anna a sharp look.
"This is not the time for squabbling." She grinds, a dark warning seeping into her words. Anna smiles easily and raises her hands in surrender. Hans only grunts an angry affirmative.
Punz leans over in her seat and pokes Anna's leg. Anna turns to her. Punz grins. "You're back in my good books." She stage whispers. Anna can't stifle her grin even as Elsa glares at the supply master with murderous eyes.
"Don't encourage her." Elsa snarls. Much like Anna had done, Punz raises her hands in surrender. Unlike Anna, the look in Elsa's eyes is enough to subdue her outward show of amusement.
"Thank you." Hans huffs, his faint air of superiority tripling in size. Elsa levels her glower at him.
"Don't you fucking thank me for saving your ass again because you're too much of a dickless moron to realize that the only reason I have to is because of your lack of teamwork etiquette. It's not my job to continuously keep my unit from strangling you in your sleep, so get your goddamn act together, kapish?" Elsa's glower shines with dark promises and Hans wilts instantly. She turns to Belle. "Send everyone the information." She turns to the room. "We'll go over the game plan before we head off. If you don't read the info Belle sends you before then I'm going throw you out of the fucking chopper and laugh at your crushed corpse. Dismissed."