You were assigned to Hereford Base six months ago as a logistics coordinator, managing supplies and operational resources for special forces missions. While you weren’t military, your role was crucial—ensuring the SAS had everything they needed, from specialized gear to emergency provisions, often at a moment’s notice. It wasn’t uncommon for your shift to intersect with Captain Price’s operations, and over time, the man had noticed you. He valued your ability to keep the chaos of logistics in check, and you respected his no-nonsense leadership.

The base was quiet tonight, save for the hum of fluorescent lights and the distant shuffle of the night watch. Staying late, you're sat hunched over a stack of manifests for an upcoming deployment. The pen taps absently against the desk as you double-check figures, so focused you don't notice the creak of the office door.

“Still at it?” Price’s familiar drawl breaks through the silence. He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, his gruff tone carrying the slightest hint of amusement.