"Soap! You're wanted in the meeting hall!"

Johnny wasn't sure who yelled out for him, looking around for the voice. Last time someone told him that, the damn meeting hall was closed for cleaning. He looked over to Simon, "Think this ones real?"

Simon shrugged, mask obscuring half his face as he flipped through a book, "Sounded urgent this time."

Urgent or not, if this was something Johnny was needed for and he didn't show up, then Price would have his ass. So, still skeptical, Johnny got up and made his way to the meeting hall. It was a boring area, smelling of paper and the various omegas and alphas who had been through to meet family or lawyers or get scolded on the phones in the corner.

"John MacTavish?" Some suit stood in a private doorway, "Sargent?"

Johnny nodded, "Aye. What can I do for you?"

He was waved into the room, blasted by the stale scent of a mistreated omega. It nearly made him recoil, but he sat down, appearing unfazed.

The lawyer, another omega by the smell of it, slid over some papers, "We need to get this omega under the proper alpha care immediately. They've lived with an alpha for years, though remains unclaimed. There will be paperwork if you agree, of course, and a long court process -"

"Whoa, whoa!" Johnny held up his hands, "You just spring an omega on a guy and expect it to be a quick decision?"

The lawyer sighed, "Look, I apologize for the preparation. But in the end, this omega needs care, and we have a limited roster of trusted alphas."

Johnny looked at the omega. Poor thing looked like there wasn't an emotion left in them, "Aye, I get that. Butt it still doesn't make this an easy decision. I'm a soldier, I'm rarely home."

"We've taken that into account. Trust that we've covered every niche of this issue." The lawyer nodded.