Well, someone sure had a high opinion of his company and its personnel, not to mention the worth of his own research. Toreth refused to be impressed -- he wasn't even sure he'd give such a high opinion of the entire Royal Marines themselves outside of his own team, and what kind of important research could they be possibly doing out in the middle of fucking nowhere, anyway?
"Matter of the highest security. Right." He grimaced, partially inclined to not comment on the matter any further. The man had at least hit the nail on the head with his last remark; he had seen humanitarian efforts fail spectacularly before, when attempts to vaccinate or feed or mend were met with bombs and slaughter or just a flat-out refusal to cooperate. Still, he had a hard time believing that such an apparently organised force was waiting it out on the side of the road so specifically just to get at a Western corporation. Maybe if the military weren't here, sure, but when the enemy had bigger, more pressing things to worry about?
His eyes fell to the man's hands, pressed together tightly. No prizes for guessing what he was doing that for.
"Well, I don't know what to tell you, but generically fucked off natives don't sit in ambush like that if they're just fucked off about your compound, not when they're busy dealing with a bloody invasion. Did you hear the amount of gunfire?" Toreth stopped, momentarily distracted by the background chatter on the comms. Everyone was fine, and there were a few congratulatory remarks on the downed targets. He tuned it out, continuing. "Look, I'm not asking you to tell me your company secrets -- I couldn't give two fucks about that. But when I've got my men on the line and my job's to deliver you -- before morning -- and you've got heat on you, it fucking helps if you tell my CO fucking everything. You can always sue the fuck out of us afterwards if something leaks."
Not that it was any use chastising or being angry. What was done was done. Toreth shook his head, preempting any rebuttal. "Just something to consider for next time. Hardly matters now, does it? B-C, are we clear, or are they pursuing?"
"We appear to be clear. No vehicular pursuit. I think they must not have expected us to make it past the body. Mines. What's our destination now? Are we aborting?"
"No, we're not fucking aborting. Our asset here is responsible for some pretty fucking heavy stuff, and we've got a delivery time on him to meet. As for our destination... head for the nearest military outpost. There should be one halfway, shouldn't there? Don't go back to the compound. Christ, where's my fucking map?"
no subject
"Matter of the highest security. Right." He grimaced, partially inclined to not comment on the matter any further. The man had at least hit the nail on the head with his last remark; he had seen humanitarian efforts fail spectacularly before, when attempts to vaccinate or feed or mend were met with bombs and slaughter or just a flat-out refusal to cooperate. Still, he had a hard time believing that such an apparently organised force was waiting it out on the side of the road so specifically just to get at a Western corporation. Maybe if the military weren't here, sure, but when the enemy had bigger, more pressing things to worry about?
His eyes fell to the man's hands, pressed together tightly. No prizes for guessing what he was doing that for.
"Well, I don't know what to tell you, but generically fucked off natives don't sit in ambush like that if they're just fucked off about your compound, not when they're busy dealing with a bloody invasion. Did you hear the amount of gunfire?" Toreth stopped, momentarily distracted by the background chatter on the comms. Everyone was fine, and there were a few congratulatory remarks on the downed targets. He tuned it out, continuing. "Look, I'm not asking you to tell me your company secrets -- I couldn't give two fucks about that. But when I've got my men on the line and my job's to deliver you -- before morning -- and you've got heat on you, it fucking helps if you tell my CO fucking everything. You can always sue the fuck out of us afterwards if something leaks."
Not that it was any use chastising or being angry. What was done was done. Toreth shook his head, preempting any rebuttal. "Just something to consider for next time. Hardly matters now, does it? B-C, are we clear, or are they pursuing?"
"We appear to be clear. No vehicular pursuit. I think they must not have expected us to make it past the body. Mines. What's our destination now? Are we aborting?"
"No, we're not fucking aborting. Our asset here is responsible for some pretty fucking heavy stuff, and we've got a delivery time on him to meet. As for our destination... head for the nearest military outpost. There should be one halfway, shouldn't there? Don't go back to the compound. Christ, where's my fucking map?"