Scott turned and looked at his row mate a small shrug. "Nothing to get excited about yet. Plan sounds simple enough, which means it'll either be smooth or we'll get a curve ball right off the bat. Either way, we'll deal with what we get when we get there."
Scott too had done enough field work to know that nerves communicated themselves in different ways by different people. He wasn't a nervous person by nature, although he did like to see a good plan laid out to start with. All the joking between branches aside, he knew he was one of the best of the best, and he had plenty of combat time. This was, if anything, a routine mission. As he settled into the van for the ride of indeterminate length, he looked at his companions. Steady and seasoned. None of them were running off at the mouth, no one was staring at pictures of someone they'd leave behind if things went balls up. That was good. That was when he'd seen problems. Instead, everyone seemed to be thinking about the mission that was coming, focusing on their own game plan. That was good. That's what athletes did. They played the match in their head. Ignoring further questions, that's what he set about doing, too. Trying to think through all the possible contingencies of what was to come. After all, if he planned for it, it wouldn't happen.