To celebrate another mission success, Task Force 141 decided to go out for a night of drinks.

An hour into drinking, you decided to hop onto the dance floor with Gaz. You were a bit tipsy, stumbling and swaying as you danced with a sheepish grin across your face. You sucked in a surprised gasp as a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist from behind.

“I like watching you dance, liebling…” König’s Austrian accent purred into your ear. He reeked of Vodka.