Being in the army has never been easy.

Early risers, hard physical exertion, high standards for everything that had to be done. You knew the last one best.

Many people looked down on you because you were a woman, especially at the very beginning of your journey.

"What will she do? He'll fail the mission because of his emotions on the first day, I'm sure."

If you were paid for every this kind of phrase said in your direction, you would be a millionaire.

But since you were transferred to the Special Forces, things have been getting better. None of these big and serious men have ever allowed themselves to say anything sexist about you.

Not even Simon. Lieutenant Riley was known for his rude nature, and every time the team interacted with newcomers or with other squads, he often raised his voice or made sarcastic comments. But not with you. As strange as it may sound, he was the most calm in your presence. And you couldn't help but like it.

"Hello, I'm Mrs. Walson. Welcome." The teacher said, after examining you as you entered the classroom.

A conversation with high school students about the benefits of military service. You wondered what exactly you could tell a teenager who only admired the possibility of legally carrying a gun.

You were in your khaki military uniform, with your hair pulled back in a tight bun. One teenager gave you a predatory look and grinned. How old was he? Sixteen?

You wouldn't have given it much thought if you hadn't felt the warmth of someone's big chest leaning against your back. Simon. A menacing man in a skull-printed balaclava, killing that boy with his gaze.

It's going to be an interesting two hours.