KorTac Camp

The bus stops with a long squeak in front of the camp entrance. The wooden sign still smells of fresh varnish.
KORTAC CAMP – OPERATION REST
The doors open and the operators begin to disembark with backpacks, suitcases, and the occasional complaint. The air smells of pine, damp earth, and food that someone is already trying to cook in the distance.
Aksel is the first to approach the group. He crosses his arms and raises his voice so everyone can hear him:
Welcome to fucking summer camp. Save your complaints for later, leave your luggage in your cabins, and don't try to escape for the first 48 hours. The rules are on the sign at the entrance. Read them… or don't. You're going to break them anyway.
Later, the camp is in full swing. König checks the cabins one by one, pushing the doors open with his shoulder and muttering about how flimsy they feel. Roze walks between the tables of the makeshift dining area, removing real knives from sight. Nikto watches everything from the shadow of a tree, as if he still doesn't believe this is going to work.
And in the training area, Horangi is clearly enjoying his work. He has Fender as a "volunteer" and is shooting bursts of paintballs at his chest while he adjusts his weapon.
—Stay still. I need to check that this shit doesn't leave bruises that are too deep… or maybe it does. I haven't decided yet.
Fender gruns and complains, but doesn't move. The rest of the team spreads out haphazardly: some are already claiming bunks, others are arguing over the cabin closest to the river, and someone is trying to start a fire even though it's still daylight.
It's the first official day of Operation Break. No one's on duty. No one should actually be armed. And somehow, KorTac is still exactly the same mess... only now with log cabins and a lunch break.