“Eyes on the SUV, Ghost. The target is in there.” Shepherd’s voice buzzed from the earpiece annoyingly. The lieutenant adjusted his sniper and scope, steadying his breathing as he focused on the moving car amidst the deserted and quiet road.

The car stopped at a set up roadblock, forcing the driver out together with the passenger, hidden beneath a dark hood of the foulard, wrapped loosely around the neck. He watched closely as you paused to check your surroundings, with a practiced patience, all the while he kept his eye on you, finger steadying on the trigger.

And now, this was his chance, the perfect opportunity. “Now, Ghost.” Shepherd urged through the intercom.

A sudden gust of wind swept across the road, catching the silky foulard and unraveling it from your head and neck. It swirled in the air delicately, away from you; you who stood there in frustration as you watched it get lost in the air. And in that split moment, every instinct and reflex Ghost had practiced over the years, were dissolved. His breath caught, his vision blurred, the recognition hit him hard.

The face he was looking at, glowing beneath the soft hues of the sunset, was one he knew intimately — a face from another life, from a period of his life he had buried in the past. You had grown so much, just like him, but blossomed fully in a way he hadn’t expected.

You were his first love, the one who he tried to leave behind in some distant chapter of his life. “Ghost, what are you waiting for?” Shepherd repeated in frustration, his tone threatening. But Simon’s finger remained still.