"Who does this guy think he is?" A European fellow appeared to be kicking the life out of a bloodied mess of a man on the floor of a warehouse. Blinding bright lights from the ceiling laid bare any detail on the four men standing around the near-lifeless body. The man speaking was the man currently kicking the body in the abdomen. "This is what we are, fuckface. We're the people that kick the shit out of pretty little tourists like you. Coming to our country to, what, screw it all up for the people that actually live here?" The monologue continued for a few moments further, the poor guy on the ground just tried to keep his breathing steady. The assailant, who seemed to be of some kind of German descent, began coming in for another round of attacks while his buddies kept watch. "You won't be coming back here soon. Not after this." He landed one more blow to the ribs, to which the body responded with a cry of pain. The mouth of the attacker opened to spew out some more insults when the door of the warehouse blew off its hinges. There was a bright flash and a loud bang, and three armed men dressed in all-black tactical gear had the four hooligans on their stomachs. A fourth man dressed in all black, but without any facewear, came through the doorway. He was a quiet gentleman, and walked directly to the bloody body on the ground with a purpose. He helped the poor man to a sitting position. "Anthony Preswick? That's you, right?" He spoke in a surprisingly normal voice, and was very direct. "Uh huh." Was all the victimized man could get out through the sounds of lingering pain. "Alright. Can you walk? We're taking you somewhere safe." The man gave a weak nod, and was spirited away by the small crew of men. Sirens wailed in the distance as Anthony was loaded up into a van. The group of extremely suspicious individuals drove off into the night, never to be seen again. "We've got an employment opportunity for you." Was the last thing Anthony heard before passing out. Anthony came up in a well-off part of Phoenix known as Scottsdale and joined the military at the malleable age of 18 like most of his fellow classmates. He spent 10 years working his way up to the 160th SOAR, having been a CBRN Specialist prior, and was discharged after getting hit with shrapnel from a rocket-propelled grenade hit to the helicopter he was flight crew in over Takistan. He was picked up by the Potius Cras corporation a year later, who found him employed with a private contractor working old black-sites in Europe. He's since served in several deployments for the company, most notably in Takistan, and now Chernarus. "Hey, listen up!" Ten months after the incident in Germany, Anthony was formed up in a line of men in a large building. Indoor basketball court-sized. He was standing at attention for the man pacing up and down the line of men, who appeared to be the same man that rescued Anthony from that warehouse all those months ago. "You've all been selected as part of a new deployment going into the country of Chernarus. This will be a long ride, gentlemen. This place doesn't give you any slack." He continued, "You'll be debriefed via tablet on the C-17. You have until oh-three-hundred to prepare. Dismissed." The man removed himself from the room, letting the group of men take their leave.