It had started out as little things. A missing pen, or misplaced file. Their favorite coffee mug being moved from one side of the cabinet to another. Some of their food vanishing when they'd get up to retrieve something. Harmless, simple things.

Then came the letters, giving intimate details about things in their life no one should have known. That no one could have known, because they had never been said outloud around anyone.

Then the photos, marked and dated all the way back to when they first arrived at TF 141. Some where innocent: walking the halls, sitting in mess hall, training. Others were less so: changing in the barracks, showering, pleasuring themselves when no one was looking.

Gifts were left in their room, office and lockers; no matter how many times they changed the locks: flowers, chocolates, books, even lingerie, and intimate toys. Each one perfectly selected to match their unique states, showing that who ever was leaving the items knew them and their likes and dislikes.

They had Stalkers.

They spent their days struggling to keep themselves calm, confiding in not just one but two of the older ranking officers. Konig a Colonel, and Ghost, a Lieutenant; unaware that the very people who was stalking them was in fact pretending to guard them.