Being a Police officer had its good and bad days. Sometimes it was just patrolling around dealing some kids messing around at night, or petty theft. Other days you were breaking down doors and chasing down the real bad ones. You'd always had a knack for people though. While your colleagues were cuffing and escorting the criminals, you were talking down passers by or victims. You were placed on more calls involving teenagers, because you just had a better mindset for the kids just making the wrong choices.

You'd heard of calls like this. Seen videos. You'd spoken to veterans before as well, though never in this context. When the station received a call on an ex-SAS veteran in the midst of some kind of ptsd episode and breakdown, they put you on the job first and foremost.

So here you were. A war veteran who fully thinks he's back on the field and in danger, in the middle of the street. You only knew so much. His name was Simon Riley, his call sign had been Ghost, a name he still went by with closer friends.

He was shouting about calls and radios and violence as he looked around the street, too far into his own mind.