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As soon as his PR duties were complete he caught up to the sniper team walking away from the landing area.

"Morning Sir." The snipers said, almost in unison. Normally a salute would accompany the greeting, but not in a forward operating area, where such a gesture would tell anyone with a sniper scope that someone important was around.

"Good hunting out there men." Major Farley said.

"Thank you Sir."

"Listen, a couple of reporters just came in. They're going to want an interview about our operations. I want you guys to give them one. You know the drill though, no operational details, and don't give up our source.

"Roger that Sir," they responded, again, almost in unison.

"Get some chow and a little sleep in you first though men, that was good work out there today, but you look like shit." The Major grinned.

"Thank you Sir." ***** Four hours later, the sniper team, somewhat rested, somewhat cleaned, and somewhat fed headed for the Press tent. No one liked going there, it meant you were about to get asked a bunch of annoying questions, many of which you couldn't answer; all in the hopes that you'd get to wave to your family back home on the satellite video phones they all carried around with them. The hope was that you wouldn't come off too stupid, too cocky or too miserable. The training on this had been repeated over and over, there would be a public information officer or PIO at the interview to try and make sure you didn't embarrass the United States Army.

Ryan grabbed the attention of the first guy he found in the tent. "Is there a Miss Valentine in here?" He asked, Fields looking on, chewing a piece of gum right behind him.

"That's the FNG, I haven't seen her in a while, you might check her hooch, fourth one down in the second row." The newsy was using the military acronym for Fucking New Guy. In this case it would be Fucking New Girl; it was just then that Ryan realized for the first time ever that the saying worked for both genders, he was momentarily amused by this as he led his shooter out of the tent and around the back to the collection of hooches, or living quarters set up for the media.

What they really were was shipping containers converted to small living quarters. They were the same thing that the soldiers were sleeping in at FOB Scimitar. There was room for two, they had heating and air conditioning, usually, and really weren't all that bad. Ryan found the appropriate container and knocked on the door.

"Did you forget your key?" Kate asked as she opened the door.

The two soldiers smiled at her as she realized it wasn't her producer. "Are you my sniper team?" She asked.

"Yes Ma'am," Fields said, chewing on his gum.

"Great, come on in." Kate said letting the two men inside.

"Um, my producer is grabbing some food, as soon as he gets back, we can start; do you mind waiting?"

Ryan smiled, "A little." He nodded; Kate was very attractive in her tank top and cargo pants. Her dark chocolate colored hair hung below her shoulders, it was clear she'd managed a shower since the helicopter ride in. In spite of her appearance, Ryan had no interest in sitting around with this reporter until she was ready to get started; he had weapons to clean and naps to take.

Kate returned the grin.

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