Three black limousines halted simultaneously outside, the curved side doors slid up over the roof as six men in camouflaged uniforms got out of each limousine armed with compacted assault rifles and submachine guns. It was the NSF leader, Juan Ivanovich Lebedev's, personal escort and close bodyguards. Behind the convoy of limousines a small square transit van pulled up from around the corner. It smoothly stopped beside one of the limousines four of the bodyguards from the limousine wearing long black mole skin coats went around the back of the van and opened the two heavy doors. Four men got out the back of the tan coloured van followed by two men wearing long dark brown leather coats and khaki coloured NSF uniforms with plated body armour vests. It was Juan Ivanovich Lebedev and his body double.

The men surrounded Lebedev and his double, watching the surrounding buildings communicating between each other using small earpieces and microphones built into the coats fabric. Lebedev walked stern faced to the entrance of the NSF Headquarters behind his double, the other fourteen men from the limousines saluted Lebedev, both Lebedevs saluted back and quickly disappeared into the building.

There was a contagious buzz of excitement spreading around the Headquarters only Commander Frase was nervous, he was in the men's toilets breathing deeply in and out of his mouth staring into the square mirror, nervously burping silently as his anxiety grew into a nauseous feeling. Frase was starting to think about vomiting, which caused his mouth to salivate in preparation, his stomach churned heavily and he started to heave. He felt stupid getting nervous over not being prepared, but this was Lebedev. Frase had met him before, even been to his conferences, spoke to him, he seemed friendly enough but Frase's team was not ready, the Headquarters was in a diabolical state security was being set up at this very moment. The stress was eating away at his mind, confusing his usual logical thoughts, his mind was being overloaded with orders and opinions and always in the back of his head was the niggling feeling of responsibility. The commander took a swing from his hip flask feeling a warm sensation as the liquor flowed down his throat; he coughed loosening some phlegm and wiped his wet bottom lip with the sleeve of his uniform. His abdominal muscles contracted as the warm alcohol hit his empty stomach.

Decker walked out of the cubicle and saw Frase standing staring deeply into the sink. "I was just taking my break" Decker explained but Frase never took any notice, he just stood stooped over the sink eyes questioning his thoughts. The commander's body lurched, his chest heaved rigidly and he spat into the sink then ran the water tap.

Decker slowly walked up behind him and the commander looked up at Decker's reflection through the mirror. The commander smiled weakly, and blinked his bloodshot eyes in rapid blinks. Decker saw a stress driven alcoholic in front of him. He had watched over the days as the commander had changed, he had become snappy and sour as the day of the shipment hijack approached. This was a man who was responsible for whole squadrons of men. Lives. As he tried to organise the formations of troop positions information was flooding in about the strength of the UNATCO counter-attacks and advances causing Frase to reconfigure the positions to cope with the brute force of UNATCO.

The smell of alcohol was strong on Frase's breath, the whites of his eyes were a smudgy pink colour with thin red capillaries weaving and intertwining at the sides of his eyeballs. He was not in any condition to see Lebedev. The commander sank to his wobbly knees and squat by the sink, he started to break down and sobbed miserably in his drunken state. The veins at the sides of his temples protruded out of his reddened face as the stress and tension was released with his tears. Decker comforted the younger commander patting and rubbing his back.