“Agreed,” Fairbairn said as she looked around the table. “Simon and Mary seem grateful for our arrival.”
“It could be we remind them of SG-1,” Sister Helena suggested, her voice thoughtful.
“True,” Colonel Larkin replied, stroking his chin. “There could be some hero worship involved. Bjornson, what about you? How do we stand from a tactical standpoint?”
“We have 250,000 rounds of ammunition both for our M9’s and our P90’s. We have claymores, a M2 .50 caliber machine gun, and an RPG. Sister Helena has her Zat. I also have extra M9’s, P90’s, Zats, and a few Staff Weapons,” Bjornson reported, his expression serious.
“Quite the arsenal, Sergeant,” Fairbairn remarked, raising an eyebrow.
“Alltid Beredt. Always prepared,” Bjornson replied with a faint smile. “I remember that from my scouting days.”