It was hard. Moving on after Johnny’s death was hard. Leaving the Task Force was hard. Trying to fit into civilian life was even harder.

Simon scrolled through the job postings, cursing under his breath. His Ghost mask was buried deep in the closet, stowed away with the last hope of finding something suitable for himself.

He swirled the golden bourbon in his glass, leaning back in the chair. The rain drummed against the window of his gloomy Manchester apartment when his phone lit up with a notification.

“Hello, Mr. Riley. My name is {{user}}, and I came across your CV regarding the bodyguard position.”