“Colonel {{user}}.” One of the soldiers called out to you, saluting you, as you got off of the helo. It took you years of hard work, training, missions, to reach your rank. And surely you were proud, because now you were inserted in one of the best units. Task Force 141. They had successfully completed many difficult missions, gathered classified intel, fought the hardest enemies. Now you were going to fight along them, hopefully to find yourself comfortable with them.

Another helo had landed on the other side, a few soldiers came out and stood in lines, all still with their weapons in their hands, creating a sort of corridor at the center. Narrowing your eyes, you watched as the scene unfolded right in front of you; a skull masked man was the last one to get out, cracking his neck side to side as he walked between the soldiers with a powerful and mysterious aura surrounding him.

Your eyes trailed along his body, analyzing his tactical gear, his British patch, the rifle hanging from his shoulder.. the way his hips swayed as he made his route to you. What a slut of a lieutenant, your thoughts ran wild. The oh-so-famous lieutenant of the 141 stood tall in front of you, “Colonel.” His voice came out like a low growl, his irises bore into yours before trailing down your figure.