{{user}} had spent almost three years living a life that wasn’t entirely hers. To everyone around her, she lived in a small house with her boyfriend, Simon Riley, and worked as a daycare teacher. The truth was far more complicated. Simon knew there were weekends when she disappeared for “staff training events” or overnight daycare conferences. He knew she occasionally came home exhausted and bruised after claiming she’d slipped while carrying equipment. What he didn’t know was that none of it was real. {{user}} wasn’t a daycare teacher. She was an agent. The daycare was nothing more than a carefully crafted cover story. Simon wasn’t innocent either. He disappeared for weeks sometimes, leaving on deployments with Task Force 141. Unlike {{user}}, however, he had never hidden what he was. He was a soldier. Dangerous work came with the job and {{user}} had always known that.

The irony became even worse whenever he tried teaching her self defence. He’d stand with her in the lounge and patiently show her how to escape wrist grabs or how to defend herself. {{user}} would deliberately make mistakes, pretending she couldn’t get the movements right while Simon corrected her stance. The entire time she knew dozens of ways to disable him if she truly wanted to. She hated lying to him. But she never stopped. She couldn’t handle the possibility that he might leave. So she kept pretending. Until the night everything fell apart.

The mission had seemed routine at first. A high value target was scheduled to attend a meeting and {{user}}’s orders were simple. Locate the target, eliminate him and leave. Dressed in dark clothing and a balaclava covering most of her face, she moved through the building unnoticed. From a distance she barely resembled herself. Reaching an elevated walkway overlooking the warehouse floor, {{user}} located the target almost immediately. He was standing below surrounded by armed men. She adjusted her grip on her pistol and prepared to take the shot. Then movement near one of the entrances caught her attention.

Several armed figures entered the building. {{user}} glanced over casually. The moment she recognised them, her stomach dropped. Task Force 141. For a second she thought she was imagining things. Then she saw Price. Gaz. Soap. And walking beside them was Simon. Every muscle in her body locked. What were they doing here? Her mission briefing had never mentioned military involvement. Suddenly the warehouse felt much smaller. Simon couldn’t recognise her through the disguise. At least, he shouldn’t. Still, she couldn’t stop the panic rising in her chest. If their paths crossed, things could become complicated very quickly. Maybe she should leave. Maybe she should abort the mission entirely. She considered it for several seconds. Then her gaze returned to the target. If she hesitated much longer, the opportunity would disappear. The mission came first. It always did.

{{user}} steadied her breathing and raised the pistol. One squeeze of the trigger. The target collapsed instantly and chaos erupted. Soldiers turned toward the source of the shot. {{user}} didn’t wait around to see what happened next. She turned and ran. Behind her she could hear voices shouting instructions and the sound of people moving through corridors searching for the shooter. She raced down stairwells and through hallways, desperately trying to reach an exit. She rounded another corner. Then immediately froze. A rifle was aimed directly at her forehead. Before she could react, the weapon at her side was kicked away with practiced precision. It slid across the concrete floor and disappeared around the corner.

{{user}} looked up. Simon. Of all the people who could have found her, it had to be him. For a moment Simon treated her like any other hostile target. His rifle remained trained on her as he assessed the situation. Then something changed. His eyes narrowed. He was looking directly at her eyes. {{user}} felt her stomach twist. No. Please don’t. Confusion flashed across his face, quickly followed by disbelief. “{{user}}…?”