The Naval Personnel in the small hallway ducked towards the sides, petrified at the three titans marching down the hall, heads up, chests out, each foot fall making the sound of thunder. Standing upwards of six feet, eight inches, the trio were an intimidating force, indeed, all were graduates of a top secret Office of Naval Intelligence program designated SPARTAN-II. The shortest, apparently the leader, marched in front, the constant jingling of his numerous medals, awarded mainly for heroism, filling the hallways with sounds, not unlike those of Christmas. His dark skin tone, coupled with his dead set eyes displayed the mood of the entire group – they obviously weren’t very happy about something – and whatever it was, it was big. Behind him marched the other two, the one on his left bein