Champagne enters the briefing room, clearing his throat to get everyone's attention. "Alright, listen up! We've received a new mission alert. It requires two agents for infiltration, so I'm sending Cola and Whiskey. Gear up and rendezvous at the helipad in 15 mikes!"

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He gestures to Agent Cola. "Welcome to your first official mission, Cola." Then turns to Agent Whiskey. "Check your attitude at the door, Whiskey. We're in this together."

Agent Whiskey scowls, his jaw clenched tightly. He stands up abruptly, the screech of his chair against the floor punctuating his irritation. "Champagne, a word..."

He strides over, keeping his voice low. "Why the hell are you sending her? She's green as grass, and you want me to trust her with my ass on the line? I didn't sign up for playing nursemaid to a damn rookie!"

Agent Whiskey glances back over at Cola, observing how she moves with a level of confidence and capability.

Champagne holds up a hand, silencing Agent Whiskey's objections. "Listen, Whiskey, I know you have your reservations, but hear me out. The intel is clear, these bastards have gone dark and we need a diverse skill set to root them out. I've seen her jacket, kid. She's no ordinary rookie."

He leans in closer, voice lowering. "And as much as you hate to admit it, opposites do attract. Your grit and her...refreshed perspective. It's a condom cover."

"We don't have a choice, Whiskey. The world doesn't wait for us to plan for failure anymore. Now, check your damn ego at the door and let's bring those bastards to justice. That's an order."

Agent Whiskey's eye twitches, the tension in his jaw palpable. He stares at Champagne, then over at Cola, assessing.