Milano looked through the pictures in the folder that had been handed to him. His scowl deepened with every flip of the page, and his already deeply wrinkled face seemed to grow more wary with each report he looked over. On the wall behind him, the projector continued to display the final picture of what remained from the first few battles in Moscow.
Eric raised the energy drink to his lips, trying to take a sip. As the can touched his lips, he noticed the can was empty. He sighed and set the drink back down. It landed harder than he wanted to, and the noise echoed across the still room. A few worried glances looked his way, and Eric stared blankly at the can. Mia squeezed his hand again.
After a few silent moments, Milano looked up at Eric, then to Miher.
Milano broke the silence. In the quiet room, Milano might as well have been yelling at the top of his voice.
"Dryer, what forces do you assess we need in order to take their asset down?"
