It made sense for the BSAA to work closely with other counter-terrorism organisations, and to foster close working relationships with other military bodies. When Piers applied for the role as liaison officer, it was with a view to sharing his knowledge and expertise, as well as potentially furthering his career. Even though it involved a move from his home to London, it was the right thing to do. He was sure of it.
There was no pomp and circumstance about the initial meeting of the two organisations. A nondescript room in the Ministry of Defense building in Whitehall served as the venue. Someone had the foresight to lay on refreshments, at least; tea, coffee and custard cream biscuits. A terribly British affair, which was quaint in Piers’ view. The introductions were made by a suited and officious civil servant, who droned on at length about how this was groundbreaking work and that it would herald a new era for military forces all over the world. Piers ate four custard creams.
Finally, the formalities were over and the civil servant, whose name Piers immediately forgot, left the two soldiers to get better acquainted. Piers looked over the other man, a Scottish fellow by the name of MacTavish, and raised a brow. Then he reached for another custard cream and munched it thoughtfully. A few seconds of silence passed, but for Piers’ steady chewing, until he swallowed, brushed a few crumbs from the front of his uniform, and spoke.
“So, you ever seen a bio-organic weapon?”
&&DESPITE the so-called “necessity” of collaboration between
mainstream military && those branches of specialists far more
suited to precision targeting BIO-TERRORISM than the sas , the
confinement to such typical barracks as they were certainly didn’t fail
in rewarding the captain’s attentions with a ripe old throbbing
HEADACHE . their new affiliates failed to live up to expectations ,
however ;; soap with skeptical ideals of beyond-advanced weaponry
to combat the growing threats which seemed to naught but multiply in
severity the threat to mankind as a whole collapsing to the handful of
soldiers dressed as simply as he , with armament as simple as his
own . though he of all people should know how appearances should
NEVER be anything to go by .
&&TEDIOUS efforts were finally given rest upon civil servant’s
departure , && soap found himself exhaling loud sigh of relief
through parted lips before raising to his feet . one set of formalities
over , only to crack open the door to another . not that he minded ,
for strong social presence had always been something the captain
found pride in . he observed with rather a mild interest as the kid he
was supposedly to be partnered with until conclusion of the threat they
faced chewed on one of the biscuits offered out on the sparse spread
offered to them . soap himself stood with weight shifted to one
foot , nursing a rather depressive plastic cup of tea . he swallowed
near half the cup in one mouthful before speaking .
❝ aye , else i wouldn’ be here . call me SOAP , by
th’ way . ‘m obliged t’ say it’s a pleasure t’ be
workin’ alongside y’. ❞
&&WITH genuine modest of intentions gloved hand was offered
out , palm down in subconscious display of relaxed superiority .
❝ what’s y’r opinion’ve this marriage between my
organisation an’ y’rs ? ❞
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