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Marcus had short contact with the man, Pavel Czerniak, “Take a seat. I will put your bags in the trunk.” Marcus sat down in the passenger seatin the heavy off road car. With great joy he found the inside nice and toasty, a complete opposite of the cold and snowy Helsinki.
By the time they had reached the small base in the middle of nowhere Marcus had learned pretty much everything about Pavel’s rather large family. If the man could fight like he talked they would be able to hold of an invasion without any problems.
Pavel showed him the barracks and promised him to give him the full tour later. “As you can see everything is really new and nice. But we are the only team here right now. Normally it should be up to five teams but they just can’t find enough people willing to do the job. Not me of course, as I said before….” Marcus watched Pavel and was not sure if he even drew breath or needed air at all.
The sun was finally up and it promised to be a nice clear day with -10 C°. Pavel lead him to the canteen were the rest of the team was at this time. They entered the small building and found a warm room with several tables and a counter full of food. Three people stopped their breakfast and openly checked him out. The oldest of the three, a man in his 40s, stood up and shook his hand.
“Welcome Mister Freimann, I’m Luca Russo the team leader.” Marcus nodded. “Marcus is just fine for me.” One after the another, the others introduced themselves. The young woman with the short blond hair was Janette Brown from England. Lars Nilsen was a tall, reserved man from Norway with striking blue eyes.
After the introduction everybody went back to eating and Marcus also got himself something that was for once not purely made outof sugar. “Now spill the beans big man. What is your class?” Janette went right for the jugular while Marcus still had a piece of bread in his mouth. “Janette, you are rude. You can not just ask somebody for their class.” The tall blond Norwegian scolded her. “Alright.” she moaned. “My name is Janette and I’m a level 4 Hawkeye. And what are you?” She asked, playing the role of a grade school girl. Everybody laughed but their eyes rested on Marcus anyway.
The moment he had dreaded for the whole journey had come and it was the worst circumstance. He swallowed a few times and cleared his throat to gain a few more seconds. “Ehmm. I’m a Fighter, level 1”.
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