It had been some time since Philip Graves, Shadow Company commander, had died in the tank. The two of you were close in the period he worked with the 141. His betrayal and death killed you, but you had a job to do.

Until you left the 141.

You found yourself at bar, trying to catch a break from your wartorn past. That was, until a familiar par of eyes met yours from across the bar. You knew them too well.

Philip Graves.