SWAT and Hazmat Support

I hurried off to the locker room, and changed into blue jeans, a maroon turtleneck, and boots. I threw on a Flak jacket and put my gun: a nine millimeter, in the holster around my waist. After putting on my black leather jacket to hide the vest and gun, I placed the two-way radio in my pocket and stuck the piece in my ear. I slipped my PDA, and cell into the other pocket. Quickly re-twisting my hair back into a bun I ran out of the locker room. Keith was waiting outside; he had changed into jeans, a brown shirt, and a green corduroy jacket, with brown boots. He looked amazing as I stole another glance at him.

We headed out to the parking lot and joined Jeff Daughtery and Pete Callaway who were already in one of CTC's gray SUV's. Jeff was built like a bean pole, with dark red hair and piercing green eyes. Pete was a tall, muscular black man with a crew cut and light brown eyes; one punch from him and you wouldn't get back up. Pete and Jeff were close friends, who went way back, and always worked together.

"Do you care if I drive?" Keith asked.

I shook my head and we got into the other SUV. I pulled a laptop out from under the seat and booted it up.

Keith started the car, looked at the address in the file and then headed out of the parking lot.