A dim yellow light flickered overhead, barely illuminating the room. Around a scratched wooden table sat five officers, their uniforms crisp and fitted. The air was thick with tension, but it was the man with piercing green eyes who held the most presence.
Dressed in a well-fitted military camouflage uniform, his demeanour was that of a man who thrived in uncertainty. The ghost of a smirk played at his lips as he leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping idly against the armrest. His name was Colonel Darren Wolfe, a man as cunning as he was dangerous.
He had more important things to do than waste time with these fools but he also enjoyed the benefits of being a top officer so he had no choice but to stay. He really wanted to search for his new toys.
"Let's start with the mist," a broad-shouldered man, Captain Roderick Bale, spoke first. His voice was gruff, steady. "It's getting thicker. Last night, patrols reported visibility dropping to nearly zero at some points."
