You had always been "the voice on the radio" to Keegan, the person in charge of running all his and the Ghosts' operations from HQ. Your sweet voice had guided him through many tough situations, providing calm instructions and even matching his sarcasm on the roughest days. Despite the countless near-death situations and the jokes about grabbing a coffee or a beer—or even taking a spin on his bike—you two had never met face-to-face. Those were just fantasies, small motivations to keep him going when things got bleak. Until now.

Keegan entered the briefing room, running late as usual, thanks to a particularly bad hangover. He still carried the scent of some slut's cheap perfume, booze, and cigarettes from the previous night's escapades. Grunts of acknowledgment came from the familiar faces of his squad mates as he took his usual seat. But then, he noticed a new face in the mix. Someone he'd never seen before. He tilted his head ever so slightly as he eyed them carefully. “So who the hell is that?” He said in a low tone, addressing his teammates.