|Esa||Set in the back of the USS Liberty, inside the large mobile command base was a office. The office was small in comparison to others, but big enough to hold a desk, three chairs and a book shelf. The desk had a single laptop on it. The door was open.
Behind the desk sat Esa Collins. Unlike the military personnel, he wore a long sleeve blue shirt, tucked into pants and a lighter blue tie. He appeared to be engrossed in the laptop at the moment.
|Trixie||Sergeant Mackenzie walks into the office, trying, and somewhat succeeding in, not letting her fatigue show as she closes the door behind her. "Sergeant Mackenzie, reporting as ordered, /Sir/," she states, coming to attention and saluting, her slung carbine shifting uncomfortably on its single-point sling at her back.|
|Esa||A moment passes before Esa looked up. A soft smile is given as he stood up and gestured with a hand to a chair; "Please sit. No need with sirs, ma'ams and such. Esa is my first name and you may call me that." He settles back in the chair and looked to her calmly "So, how'd your patrol go?"|
|Trixie||"Long. Mashed at least two dozen rotten melons in about five intense and interesting minutes," Trixie replies, sinking wearily into the indicated chair. "Esa? That's a new one. Guess you can call me what you like, so long as it's not Sarge. That one still hasn't grown on me."|
|Esa||Esa nodded as he flipped open a personal file on his desk. "Trixie Mackenzie; Co-Captain of the cheerleaders at Raccoon City High; Gymnastics; National Guard time alongside Raccoon City Police Department and apart of STARS." He flipped another page "Impressive history for a 20 year old." A pause, hmm "What happened with the National guard?" He asked mildly curiously.|
|Trixie||"Both my parents were killed during my senior year of high school... the Guard paid the bills so I could graduate," Trixie replies, lowering her eyes, her flat tone part weariness and part old grief that still pulls at her heart, like a stiff old scar. "Mostly what happened was that we tried to hold things together during the outbreak while Umbrella's monsters turned Raccoon into the world's largest buffet of horrors. We got lucky enough to live long enough to be extracted with the refugees. Oh, yeah... and I got a field promotion to Sergeant. Lost it when I went regular Army."
She glances up wearily. "Unless you're talking about something else that happened. Got no idea what that could be."
|Esa||"Well, I'm not seeing a standard DD-214." Esa shrugged "Though wouldn't surprise me; Army is great at getting people in; military itself is horrible at losing all the paper to get out." He said chuckling and closed the file. "So tell me, Trixie, how did your patrol go?"|
|Trixie||"Long. Mashed two dozen melons or more with a grenade launcher, a pair of mounted 240-Golfs, and a few dozen five-five-six rounds. Couldn't really get an accurate count," Trixie replies. "Did we cover this already? I feel like I've mentioned this before," she adds, her tone wearier and slightly confused. "Anyway, whoever decided to add the Jeeps to the patrols deserves a gold star. We get /so/ much more done when we don't have to walk everywhere."|
|Esa||"Oh, we did." Esa replied gently and leaned back. "Just hoping to see if the report stayed the same." He leans forwad, clicking a button the workstation. Trixies can be heard saying "No rest for the wicked..." over an open mic. Esa looked to her curiously but said nothing.|
|Trixie||Trixie blushes faintly at the comment, but then shrugs. "Didn't know the mic was open. That was right before we continued our patrol," is all she says.|
|Esa||Esa nodded slightly "I see. What was this in reference too?" He inquired calmly.|
|Trixie||"Our night not being over yet. I'd just mopped up a groaner that popped up outside our original fields of fire," Trixie replies, idly patting the forearm of her XM8 with her right hand. "H&K really should've gotten that contract to produce these for the Army."|
|Esa||Esa brows furrowed "Odd that a walker ended up outside the cleanup zone." He replied calmly as he jotted down some information on paper. "Was there a reason for the random groaner outside the field off fire?" He asked|
|Trixie||"Not really... the Zone's full of 'em, and they don't always pop up in mobs. We made enough noise with our shooting and the grenade explosions to draw quite a crowd and were mostly facing one point of the compass, as that's where the crowd was," Trixie replies. "I looked over my shoulder after things died down and spotted the straggler, a few yards back from our position. Knocked the top off his head to finish the clean sweep." She shrugs nonchalantly, in spite of her fatigue. "We had gone down a T-shaped alleyway and were at the left side of the top of the T... he might've been down the other side of the T-top when we pulled in, or off down the neck of the T. He probably just followed the noise right to us. We knock down a few solos like him every night since we got the Jeeps. Riggs thinks the noise and the headlights draw them out."|
|Esa||Esa nodded "Alright, thank-you for the debrief, Trixie." He notes calmly as he sets the notepad on the table along with the pen. "Anything else I should be concerned about?"|
|Trixie||"Potential loose B.OW.'s and groaners spreading their T-cooties /outside/ the Zone... scuttlebutt says that things were getting out through the catacombs before they were sealed, and there's no way they haven't started spreading the love since then," Trixie replies, a hint of bitterness in her tone. "The Zone's only half the battle, Sir, and if we don't get on top of this RFQ it'll be the half that doesn't matter. We'll still lose Paris."|
|Esa||"The catacombs have sweeper teams combing them. We've lost an entire team down in there a few days ago; Sergeant Thompson and his team along with a few others." Esa said with a sigh. "I think we've gotten the catacombs under control.. Or at least I hope we have." He noted calmly.|
|Trixie||"I've heard little bits about that. It's a doggoned shame all around," Trixie murmurs, shaking her head sadly as she stands. "Maybe they'll be the last losses for us down there, but we need to keep an eye out for things outside the /catacombs/, too. I keep hearing rumors on shore leave... cannibals in the city and weird looking animals in the streets. The same sort of rumors we got in Raccoon City. Maybe City Hall and the PD were giving us the mushroom treatment, but word on the street told the truth about things. But we could never get permission to act on the rumors... same mushroom treatment, same river in Egypt from higher up the chain." She clenches a fist and her teeth, bowing her head. "Less than two weeks later, everything fell apart. You know the rest from CNN. That's why we have to get a lid on this."|
|Esa||Esa brow rose "There hasn't been a report... That I am aware of, of things loose within Paris itself." He leaned forward typing on his workstation typing. "If that is the case, though, then I've got an assignment then for you." Assignment? Who said anything about this guy able to give orders?|
|Trixie||"We'd better hope it's /not/ the case. The Paris PD... Gendarmerie... whatever they call it... might know more. They'd have /some/ kind of records, I'm sure," Trixie muses, then snaps her attention back to assignment. "I'm listening, Sir, but can you tell me something first, since it could be important?"
She takes a deep breath, then asks, "What kind of collar tabs do you wear?"
|Esa||Esa smiles gently as he looks to the computer "I'm a part of a specialized section within the FBC; not directly connected to Colonel Weskers Raptor team." He noted calmly. "I want you, on an official capacity, to talk with the Paris Police Department. Gather up all information relating to these rumors and begin an investigation. You can assemble a few others if you wish; but keep the numbers low."|
|Trixie||"I can try, Sir, but I can't guarantee results. Last time I tried to talk to the Paris PD, all I got was doors slammed in my face," Trixie replies softly, a hint of the weariness returning. "Maybe there's some people in the ranks with backgrounds in police procedures, investigations, maybe journalism..." she adds, at first to Esa and steadly more and more to herself, listing the possibilities out on her fingers, already mentally going over the job.|
|Esa||"There was talk between the FBC and the city government a few weeks ago; the police were brought in on the meeting. I believe you will find them more helpful this time than the last." Esa watched her carefully and pulled a soft smile "I would not give this to you if I did not feel you could handle it, Trixie. If you need any help, come find me."|
|Trixie||"Everyone tells me that..." Trixie murmurs, rolling her eyes, but after a moment she nods to him anyway. "I'll scrape a team together in the morning. Early morning. No point trying to do it tonight. I'll be in touch. You probably won't be able to get away from your phone for more than five minutes at a time, actually. Anything else I should know about this job?"|
|Esa||Esa shook his head "Simple investigation and some sleuthing. See what you can dig up. Part of our job is to make sure that the quarantine zone stays in tack. Like you, I'd rather not see a Raccoon City incident." a pause and he adds "Dismissed."|
|Trixie||Trixie manages not to salute at that final word. "I'm your shovel, Sir," she says wryly. "Good night." With that, she turns and exits the office.|
|Esa||Esa watched her head out and he nodded in approval. On his screen was the dossier of one Trixie. He moved the mouse and clicked on pending investigation and approval for Black Sword. He then turned off the computer and exited the room.|