E.A.G.L.E.S.

You are a part of E.A.G.L.E.S.. The Elite Anti Terrorist and Global Law Enforcement Expeditionary Strikeforce. You are the world police. Congratulations. You do not exist, your name will never show up on google, and you will never recieve any credit for what you do. You work with your teammates to do whatever the U.S. Government wants. You are the secret hand of Uncle Sam.

And you live to serve.

Name: Thoven G. Brewer
Background:Joining the Army when he was 18 so he could play with explosives, Brewer enlisted in the Corps of Engineers and worked his way up to the Special Forces. He became a part of Delta Force and had been operating with them for over a year when E.A.G.L.E.S. picked him up. They made him an offer he couldn't refuse.
Specialties: Explosives.
Other:A.K.A "The Cannon", Brewer likes to drink, wrestle, lift weights, and spend time at the range during in his free time. He considers himself technologically challenged but he is by no means stupid. He is of Irish descent.
Age:26
Height % Weight: 6'3'', 240.

Name:Clive Granely
Background: Genius, skipped many grades as a child then dropped out of school after high school, refusing every college that tried to recruit him. After that everyone lost touch with him. Traveled for the rest of his life from state to state, hacking into bank's and other companies, taking money where he needs it. Accidentally hacked into military intelligence, and delved deeper and made a mistake of not covering his tracks as they traced him. Discovered the E.A.G.L.E.S. Program. They apparently found him useful.
Specialties: Technology and has recently begun with weapons testing on the side
Other: Is not allowed to leave the E.A.G.L.E.S. HQ or he will be killed.
Age:25
Height % Weight: 5'8"

Thanks Darg! Interesting "Other" info.

Name: Grif Santana

Background: Recruited from the U.S. Army Rangers, he is fluent in several languages, as well as intelligence missions. He is qualified as a sniper and light infantry.

Other: He's rather paranoid. Out on the battlefield it's understandable, but it can get absurd when it comes to his own quarters.

NAME: Corporal Hunter Phoenix
AGE: 23
HEIGHT/WEIGHT: 5'10"/160lbs.
HAIR/EYES: Blonde/Blue
PRIMARY MILITARY SPECIALTY: Weapons Expert
SECONDARY MILITARY SPECIALTY: Scout/Sniper
PRIMARY WEAPON: Various, depending on mission.
SECONDARY: Same as above.
BACKGROUND: Very boring. Tenth in his class all through high school. Joined the military to pay for college. During the Iraqi/American War, he was awarded a purple heart after taking a bullet in the shoulder from an enemy sniper. Managed to take out trhe sniper from extreme range with his off hand using a single shot from his sidearm after he dropped his M4. Returned from the war and went to college, didn't think anything about hiw medal. Fifteenth in his class at University of California in Davis. Majored in Philosophy. Regularly fired his father's varmint rifle at his property in the country, always at extreme range. His father, a retired Colonel in the USMC, got him reccomended for the special forces, where he was picked up by EAGLES after a series of every impressive weapon runs using a vast variety of firearms.
OTHER: Fast friends with Brewer, Competitive with Grif for the title of marksman. Physically small of stature, compared to the rest of the EAGLES, but lifts weights along side Brwer, going fro endurance rather than power. 3% body fat, can run seemingly forever without breaking a sweat.

Grif Santana sat in his quarters. He had just been given a tour of the E.A.G.L.E.S. facility. A fitness circuit, state of the art weapons, shooting range, cafeteria, even cable TV!

It was a lot of things to happen all at once.

He got up and began unpacking his bags. He unpacked the new MARPAT camo uniform, his Class A uniform, a knife he had gotten from an Iraqi. The man had been trying to kill him at the time, but that wasn't important. There were the necessary tolietries. This was really it. Anything else could be bought at the PX.

There was a laptop computer in the room, so he popped it open.

"Welcome Sgt. Santana!" the computer said happily. Grif looked around. He would mute the volume next time. He got up and began checking the lamps and looking behind the pictures. After he was satisfied with his search, he went back to the computer. Outside, a helo touched down. More people kept coming.

OOC: Yeah Dono!

Brewer leaned against a table in the kitchen, stirring his coffee and looking around at the E.A.G.L.E.S. HQ. He'd unpacked earlier, put away his clothes, cleaned his 45 (which was now stuck in a holster behind his back), and gotten a tour of the facility. It was spiffy.

He was interested to see where this all was going.

Sipping his coffee, Brewer unfolded a newspaper laying near him and started skimming through its topics. Pyscopaths, terrorist bombings, and injured sports stars seemed to be the hot topics. He was reading up on the U.S.'s progress in OIF when he heard the faint sounds of a running chopper. Finishing his coffee, he folded up the paper and made his way toward the noise.

Name: Jay Holland

Background: Joined the British Army as an officer in the Grenadier Guards. After three years of service, including deployment in Afghanistan, he studied History at the University of Nottingham. After completing his degree, he returned to the Guards and was entered for SAS training by his CO. After passing and working for the SAS in warzones such as Iraq, he was approached by EAGLES as they sought to recruit international agents.

Speciality: Intelligence, Leadership

Other: Quiet, well-read, quick-thinker. Proud of British tradition, feels alienated in a group of Americans. Tall and slim.

Age: 28

Height/Weight: 6'3''/170

Corporal Phoenix Hunter sat impatiently in the chopper as it began its descent toward the EAGLES HQ.

He could barely hear a thing over the roar of the chopper blades, and the bulky headset he wore didn't help very much. He heard the pilot ask for clearance and get landing coordinates, though he didn't know how the pilot could miss the giant "H" painted on the landing pad.

He poked his head out the open side door of the chopper, looking down at the facility. It was a relatively small compound, compared to the base he'd been stationed at during his run in the Marines, but it was still a good sized camp; four rather large buildings and a big dirt track looping around one of them. A couple basketball courts sat at the back end of the compound.

With a startling jolt, they hit the ground. Phoenix grumbled to himself as he planted a foot on the ground, stepping out of the chopper.

The Commander was waiting there no more than twenty feet away. He was a very distinguished looking man, with a kind smile and a twinkle in his eyes that made you think he'd just as soon buy you a beer than order you into battle. An aide stood beside him, carrying a clipboard, which she had pressed against her chest as if she were cuddling a teddy bear. The thought of a girl of her proportions cuddling a teddy bear in bed made Phoenix smile as he kept his head low and jogged over to the pair.

"Sir, Corporal Hunter reporting in from California, sir." Phoenix snapped off a sharp salute with his right hand, his left keeping a tight hold on two rather heavy bags.

The Commander gave a casual salute then smiled.

"At ease, Corporal. This isn't boot camp."

"Thank you sir," Phoenix said, returning the Commander's smile.

"You'll forgive me if I leave you now, Corporal. There are quite a few of you coming in for this Op, and I don't have a lot of time to spend with each of you. I'm Nathaniel Caldwell; welcome to EAGLES." Phoenix stored the name in his memory for late recall. "Head on into the Mess Hall, and wait there for further instructions. A few of the EAGLES are already inside."

"Yessir," Phoenix said, saluting quickly.

"Dismissed!" The young aide standing next to Caldwell said. Phoenix gave him a strange look before jogging off toward the Mess Hall.

As the Corporal rushed off, Caldwell looked to his assistant and said, "Cooper, you realize he outranks you, right?"

The aide was taken aback. "Really? Oh, sorry sir."

Caldwell laughed and strode toward the Command Center. Private Cooper stood there for a moment before realizing that he had left, then scurried after him.

name: sgt. Joseph Frealand
background: Joseph Frealand rose through the ranks in the army, Rangers, and DELTA. He became one of the best medics that DELTA ever had. He rose to the rank of Sergeant, then refused every promotion since. Upon being asked to join the E.A.G.L.E.S, he was skeptical, but finally agreed. He is also an accomplished sharpshooter.
specialties: stiching people back up and sharpshooting
age: 26 years old
height/weight: 6'0"/ 223 lbs.
other: He is a competent leader, but is short tempered and gets into fights often.

OOC: Sweet, Jack, Pro, thanks for joining guys.

Thoven left the kitchen side area and walked into the mess hall just as a door opened in the back and the noise from the chopper increased greatly. A man entered through that door, carrying big green Army issue bags. He was small, compared to Brewer anyways, and he had the toned build of a runner or swimmer.

"Greetings, friend." Brewer said, offering his hand. The man nodded and shook it.

"So, you new to this program too?" The new guy asked.

"Rog. I just arrived this morning with another guy, Santana I think they called him. He's in his room now, last I saw. Where you from?" Brewer asked, sitting down at one of the long tables and helping the other guy with his bags.

"Straight from Fort Bragg, outta SF training. Before that I was in college in Cali. It's amazing what a six months can do to your life innit?"

"No joke." Brewer replied, then both men turned as the doors that led to the landing pad opened again.

Joseph Frealand walked into the mess hall, his bag slung over his shoulder. He looked around for a minute, then walked up to Thoven.

"Hello, sir. Who's the commanding officer here?" he asked.

A head popped in Grif's door, "oy, santana" clive said loudly.

"Who are you?" he replied quizzically looking up from his computer.

"Clive, lemme' see your computer"

"Why?"

"I'm gonna' make sure its secure and everything upload some stuff to it."

"I already made sure its secure, and its my computer, don't you have your own to worry about?"

"I have 10 computers to worry about and they're all secure. Plus you're security sucks, i've already hooked it up remotely."

"Hey this is my personal computer stay off!"

"im the tech geek they hauled in here, suck it up. i'm making sure everything is completely secure, and put on some information. I have some friends out there in the world that would love to hear about this, and have been trying to find me since higschool; they're good hackers, so i have to watch my back."

"Hacker?! why'd they pick you to run the tech here?!"

"story for another time, don't need to explain how you're here i know everything about you."

"WHAT?!"

"hey i was bored, and i need to know who i'm working with here." Clive said as he took his computer and began typing away; 11 minutes later he was finished. "here, i've added new firewalls and security to your computer, also information about the known criminals and terrorist organizations. Also i can remotely access your computer from any other computer in the world, don't try to keep me out its almost impossible. Also if your computer is captured or something i added a meltdown type program it destroys the electronics of your computer, and occasionally makes it melt or spontaneously combust, so be really careful. That of course can also be remotely detonated, but i'm the only one who knows the codes." He said as he handed grif his computer back. "oh yea everyone is in mess hall, so yea. Laterz" Clive could be heard muttering, as he walked down the hall, about some paranoid soldier and his computer.

Jay Holland walked quietly to his new quarters. They looked plain but comfortable. Nobody had noticed him come in, which is just the way he liked it. He wanted to introduce himself on his own terms.

He wondered again why he'd given up a career in the SAS for EAGLES. Both were ultra-secretive special forces, and nobody would ever really know you were a member of either, but SAS made him proud. It made him feel like he was something. EAGLES he knew nothing really about. They just paid him better.

He gently took a few things out of his bag. A photo of his wife and son, taken just last summer, the last letter she'd sent him, telling him about how they were getting ready to move to the States, and a drawing by his five-year-old son of Jay himself. It had him in badly-coloured camouflage.

Jay smiled, and blu-tacked them all to the wall. A little corner of home.

NAME: SSGT Kobi Shimoni
AGE: 26
HEIGHT/WEIGHT: 6' even/210 lbs
HAIR/EYES: black/brown
PRIMARY MILITARY SPECIALTY: weapons
SECONDARY MILITARY SPECIALTY: hand to hand combat
PRIMARY WEAPON: Galil AR
SECONDARY: varies (but he always carries multiple close quarter weapns--his favorite being a Bowie knife and brass knuckles)
BACKGROUND: An Israeli, who lived in the United States for a majority of his formative years (and even holds naturalized citizenship) comes to EAGLES by way of the IDF. He joined the IDF at age 18, and enlisted in the Elite Golani Infantry brigade. From there he was bumped up to commando training, and then shuffled around to another, quasi-independent unit, the EGOZ rangers. He has fought in Gaza, Samaria, Judaea and Lebanon, as well as some ultra-secret missions in undisclosed locations. After his tour with the Egoz, he joined the ultra-secretive, ultra-elite Sayeret Matkal of Entebbe fame. After many successful mission in the Sayeret, he was approached by an American EAGLES recruiter who asked him to serve in EAGLES. They were accepting foreign recruits, and since he was a naturalized dual citizen, they wanted him.
OTHER: Speaks 10 languages fluently, and is a master of interrogation. He is often the team "interpreter" (that is, when they leave people alive). He speaks: English, Hebrew, Arabic (three dialects), Mandarin and Cantonese (Chinese), Russian, German, Swedish, Hindi, and Italian. Loves shooting in the range, and "playing with fire". He lifts weights with Brewer. Fast freinds with Brewer, Dono, Santana and Holland. He is basically a jack of all trades, but specializes in the above mentioned specialties.
Also, he is very athletic. He plays Striker in football (international) and Defensive Tackle in American Football. He is also the comic of the group. When tehyre not in a breifing or on a mission, he loves nothing more than telling jokes and making people laugh, and he'll do it at any given moment. But when it comes down to missions and Breifings, he's all business.