The team got the message, and moved without a reminder from Buck that time was a-wasting. In a matter of seconds they managed to assemble, all gear packed and accounted for so cleanly that it was like they hadn't ever been there. Buck idly picked up a spent 5-7 casing out of the folds of his clothing and tossed it, following after the team to make sure no one fell behind or idled.
Extraction was swift, the chinook landing in a matter of minutes once the pilot spotted the signal. Buck gave the pilot his usual cursory greeting, and nodded blandly when asked about how the mission had gone. All bodies were present and accounted for, with several picked up along the way. A job well done, evident by the smiling faces, even if Buck's was permanently locked in a gruff look.
He liked his job, enjoyed the action and being around like minded people, but the usual post celebratory parties were something he always tried to avoid. It took time for him to warm up to the team, and while he could stand drinking with some, he couldn't shake his standoffish attitude towards newer members. It was a rite of passage in the special operations community; newcomers had to earn their place. So far, the recruits had earned a spot on the team, but not his friendship.
He said little on the ride back, busying himself with rifle maintenance, and texting the rest of Rainbow back at home, sending dry quips to Frost and inquiring if the GIGN felt they could have done better. All he received in return was a rude snapchat, captioned N'importe quoi!. The words were kinder than the image he got back from the Americans who'd send a quick video of a middle finger, telling him they could have done it in half the time.
"Looks like it's just us drinking tonight," he said conversationally, leaning over to show Legolas the slew of messages he'd gotten from the rest of the team back at home. There were enough swears to make even a sailor blush, but none of it contained any real venom— insults were how the team congratulated each other, and kept their egos grounded. "Reports aren't due until tomorrow morning, plenty of hours to drink until we regret our decisions."
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Extraction was swift, the chinook landing in a matter of minutes once the pilot spotted the signal. Buck gave the pilot his usual cursory greeting, and nodded blandly when asked about how the mission had gone. All bodies were present and accounted for, with several picked up along the way. A job well done, evident by the smiling faces, even if Buck's was permanently locked in a gruff look.
He liked his job, enjoyed the action and being around like minded people, but the usual post celebratory parties were something he always tried to avoid. It took time for him to warm up to the team, and while he could stand drinking with some, he couldn't shake his standoffish attitude towards newer members. It was a rite of passage in the special operations community; newcomers had to earn their place. So far, the recruits had earned a spot on the team, but not his friendship.
He said little on the ride back, busying himself with rifle maintenance, and texting the rest of Rainbow back at home, sending dry quips to Frost and inquiring if the GIGN felt they could have done better. All he received in return was a rude snapchat, captioned N'importe quoi!. The words were kinder than the image he got back from the Americans who'd send a quick video of a middle finger, telling him they could have done it in half the time.
"Looks like it's just us drinking tonight," he said conversationally, leaning over to show Legolas the slew of messages he'd gotten from the rest of the team back at home. There were enough swears to make even a sailor blush, but none of it contained any real venom— insults were how the team congratulated each other, and kept their egos grounded. "Reports aren't due until tomorrow morning, plenty of hours to drink until we regret our decisions."