"Area 51...don't make me laugh. Area 51 is the gift shop. You want the real secrets, you'll find 'em here.
Welcome to the Submersible Underwater Nest. Welcome to The S.U.N."
"Uh, I didn't say anything."
, Travis looked over to the V-22 Osprey's pilot with a half-cocked brow. He himself was sitting at the window and watched the S.U.N. rise below. "Is that like a routine? Do you have to say that every time?"
, the USAISA agent added. However, the pilot didn't respond, probably because she was embarassed.
, McCoy's focus turned back to the panorama.
S.U.N. Main Hangar;
Travis disembarked from of the aircraft as it's tiltrotor mechanism was still collapsing behind him. He seamlessly made a 360° turn without missing a beat in his gait. It was a huge compound by any measure. Probably larger than the Pentagon itself, if he had to guestimate from what he saw, the hangar itself was almost as big as DC's Airbase Andrews.
He was under the assumption that he was to provide cross-training in the C.A.R. method for military troops stationed here.. However, it quickly became clear that was probably a ruse. Shooting firearms in the confines of a gigantic sensory deprivation tank wasn't rational. Gunshots would've carried over the whole compound, the gunsmoke would fuck with the AC. Step by step, Travis realized that this - whatever it was - it felt off.
"Captain Travis McCoy. JSOC."
, he said while walking up to an officer that was seemingly waiting for him near his transport. "I'm here to teach your guys how to shoot, I guess?"
Jesus, I wish I could have a smoke just about now.