Chinook Recovery - Taking Watch

The contractor’s approach caught her off guard, though she attributed that to the head injury.

”Mr. Patterson I'd appreciate your help on this one.“ he said, rifle slung relaxed. Were they on name basis now? She couldn’t remember, but ‘Mr. Patterson' she’d have to use later for her own amusement.

The contractor led in to the Chinook's current status and their plan to refuel, which got lost as she searched for a nameplate on his uniform. To tell the truth, she couldn’t recall a single name. Even the Russian contractor eluded her memory, which she felt horrible about because they were getting along okay before the crash. Or was it something else?

”That Doctor lady volunteered two of her staff to help with labor, but I don't know. Thought that our two awesome Snipers here could watch our six while we have ourselves a look. What do you say?“

She looked down at her rifle, and all not-even-eight-inches of the barrel. There was a joke to he made there, but then suggesting her or Patterson's ten-inch rifle to be sniper quality was already a joke. She chuckled, “You mean the Russian with the real rifle, right?”

Still, a magazine went back in, free hand racking the bolt for that first round. “Well… Turner did say not to be moving about too much. I’m up for finding a chair and tapping some heads.”

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