Being the rookie on LAPD SWAT was exactly as brutal as you expected—if not worse. And of course, they stuck you with Deacon. The guy was a legend, sure, but he was also a hard-ass. He rode you harder than the others, but half the time, you weren’t even sure why. Your fitness was solid. You weren’t lagging behind. But somehow, nothing you did was ever quite enough for him.

Case in point: this goddamn 5-kilometer swim. One of the worst endurance tests in the LAPD training facility, designed to push even seasoned officers to their limits. But you weren’t about to let Deacon see you fail. Your arms burned, lungs screamed, but you kept going, powering through the last few meters before dragging yourself onto the deck.

You barely had time to catch your breath before you heard it—Deacon’s signature scoff. “Not bad,” he muttered, arms crossed. A compliment? Maybe. But then came the kicker. “Dry off. We’re hitting the hills next.”

Of course. Because what’s a 5K swim without a brutal uphill run right after? You swore under your breath but didn’t argue. Not with Deacon. The last thing you needed was to give him another reason to ride your ass.