Daisy | Simon Riley

|12|

She refused to think about her behaviour the night before.

The fact that she'd gotten that drunk off of two beer was worse than any horny flirting she'd thrown around. But then there were her apparent attempts at bonding... and what she'd said to Pa—which, he deserved, but she felt she'd probably have been much more eloquent had she been even slightly more sober.

When she pushed into the briefing room before breakfast, having been notified of an early morning meeting, she pretended like it didn't happen. She could only expect that Price and Ghost would as well.

"Morning, Daisy," Price nodded before looking back down to the computer.

"Morning," she greeted, eyes scanning past her team to an unfamiliar face.

"Good to meet you, Lieutenant, my name is Hawkins, I'm a weapons expert," he greeted with a hand out toward her.

She shook it, but her face contorted in worry, "That doesn't sound good."

"It's not," Ghost grumbled.

"Are Gaz and Soap alright?" she asked, eyes jumping from him to Price.

"We're fine, bonnie, dinnae you worry," Soap's voice came from a speaker in the center of the table.

With a relieved nod, she looked back to him. "You've been reviewing the blueprints of the weapons from Frank's files, correct?"

"I have, but the blueprints have been edited so we're struggling to make any progress."

"Oh?"

He nodded, lips pulled thin. "They're being smart; erasing any details that would ID the manufacturer. Some we've been able to par-down to a few possible locations, but without lot numbers, it's impossible to be certain. Some blueprints are so scrubbed they're barely even discernable."

"So what's—"

The door opened and Drew turned, saluting Adcox as he entered.

"Morning. Everyone here?"

Price nodded, "Yes, sir."

"Alright, let's hear the lowdown."

She took a seat, eyes moving to Price who turned on the projector, bringing to life images of a warehouse. A second image showed its interior, and with a second glance, she made out the weapons that filled the space; cases of what she could assume was ammo or possibly bombs.

"These are the images that Sergeants Garrick and MacTavish have sent of the identified storage facility... Their stash is far larger than we imagined. Hawkins, have you had the chance to go over the images?"

The man stood, moving to the screen. "It's not possible to identify everything, but these here," he said, moving a hand over the bottom corner of the image, "these are anti-armour grenades, incendiary, these look like they could be EMP devices, and throughout there are boxes of ammunition and guns. And considering there was a mortar being transferred, we should assume they also have shells... meaning the destructive power within that warehouse... is catastrophic."

"How far is this place from civilians?" Drew asked breathily.

"There's only a fourteen kilometre radius between it and the nearest town called Dinton. It's located within a small forest, so it's concealed, but people can access the area easily," Price explained.

Hawkins nodded. "Having that many explosives in one spot is an accident waiting to happen—if someone makes one wrong move, or someone get's spooked, it could set the whole place off."

"That makes shuttin' the place down a lot more complicated," Ghost commented. "If we move in and a stray bullet hits the wrong box, everyone pays the price."