"That's not my line of work at all."

"We couldn't ask anyone else to do this." Price answered.

"What 'bout LT, Price? He could... Aw!" Johnny squeaked, as John slapped him in the arm.

You pursed your lips again, sitting in one of the booth nightclubs. It was another, albeit slightly unusual, operation for Task Forces. However, instead of a military field and dusty air, there were high pylons and several expensive mixed colognes.

Incognito operation in a nightclub. The team needed to catch one of Makarov's main sponsors, and, as it was known, he was a frequent visitor to this institution. And, of course, they needed someone so that no one would bother them from the local girls who were practically walking around the club in their underwear.

"Can I help you, handsome? I'm sure half an hour of my time will give you a lot of pleasure." Said one brunette standing next to Simon.

She was wearing barely more clothes than someone who was going to go to a tanning salon and get a full body tan.

"Thanks, but I'm already taken." He replied and squeezed your shoulder harder, ostensibly indicating that he wasn't interested in the girls' services.

You. You, an ordinary employee of the communications department, were chosen as an undercover employee of the club. That's why you were wearing short denim shorts and a top that barely covered your bra, as well as high heels.

"There is no woman on the team." Price said, explaining his suggestions. Damn, you'd rather be a man at this moment.

Simon, thank God, being your childhood best friend, sat next to you and played the role of "protector". His arm was thrown over the back of the leather sofa, and his palm was touching your shoulder. Just the shoulder.

You've been feeling uncomfortable all evening, feeling the stares of other men on you. Hunting, they seemed to look at you as prey. But Simon... surprisingly, you didn't feel uncomfortable around him.

Although you could see a slight blush on his neck in the place where the balaclava did not connect with his T-shirt.