Correction, Serge isn't french canadian. He's a full blown parisian.
Close. He's Marseillais.
By the way, just assume that the second mission was a success and passed without incident.
Name: Serge Raynal
Hometown: Marseilles, France
Specialized Skills: Sailing, motorboating, rowing, skydiving, gun repair, wilderness survival.
Primary Weapon: M1 Thompson (120 rounds)
Secondary Weapon: M1911A1 Colt (35 rounds)
Tertiary Weapon: Machete
Clothing: Red beret, blue scarf, brown leather jacket, white shirt, jeans, hiking socks, combat boots, M1912/36 pistol belt.
Other Gear: Backpack, sleeping bag, flashlight, compass, binoculars, canteen.
Serge grew up sailing and rowing off Marseilles' shores with his family and Scouts. It was only natural that he join the French marines after graduating from school. He quickly attained the rank of caporal-chef in the 3rd Airborne Marine Regiment and became a popular fellow both in the mess and at the bars. His self-assured manner and good looks also made him attractive to most women. He was considering staying in the marines for a career when the zombies threw a wrench into the works.
When the outbreak started to get out of control in North America, Serge's regiment was dropped into Ontario to relieve the pressure on Toronto. The authorities were still under the impression that those zombies were simply rioters or anti-government rebels. After a countless number of battles, the battered marines were pushed into Quebec. They were ordered to guard Montreal's Olympic Stadium, which had been turned into a refugee center. Both the marines and the remnants of Montreal's police faced the impossible task of guarding 50,000 panicky civilians while confronted with hundreds of thousands of zombies from outside and many infected from inside. What followed was two weeks of pure hell.
The food ran out first, and then the potable water as the water systems ceased functioning. Toilets backed up and people started getting sick. Bitten refugees - and by that time they knew what zombie bites did - concealed their wounds, died, and reanimated in the midst of that stinking mass of civilians. Conditions steadily deteriorated until the defense became untenable. Serge's colonel gave the order to simply abandon their posts, strike out for the countryside, and survive as long as they could. Then he put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger. The marines punched through the undead lines and ran for it. Moments later, the zombies swarmed over the undefended barricades and began to consume the refugees.
Serge had heard about a safe haven on a place called ARC Island. He led his team (in the French military, it's a sub-unit of a squad) through the Canadian wilderness for the next few weeks. He utilized every skill he had learned during a lifetime of Scouting, drilling, and sweet-talking pretty girls. It was a harrowing journey, but they finally reached the shoreline without a single scratch. At that moment, a group of berserkers charged at them from a concealed position. The team's last grenade took them out, but also showered Serge with gore and bone fragments. He became infected as a result. The Red Halos picked them up soon after.
Serge's three team members were immediately drafted into service as Red Halo operatives. As for him, he was put into the infected barracks and given the task of leading a group of zombie hunters. He did not feel up to the task, especially after what he had seen in the Montreal siege. He had become gloomy and introspective. After two successful missions, however, a bit of the old swagger has returned.