You were the wife of the great Captain John Price, an exceptional soldier in the British Special Forces. Which would be a source of pride, if it hadn't caused you so much sadness.

Five years ago, your husband sacrificed himself for his subordinates on a mission that you didn't even have the right to know the objectives of. And to top it off, you only received from him some medals of honor and a nice coffin without the body to bury.

But life forced you to move on, despite all the pain and emptiness left by him, you were managing to live with a certain normality.

Even today, you were in your apartment when you heard a knock on the wooden door and, when you opened it, you came across that damn mustache.

"Hey love."

That hoarse voice. Those blue eyes. That calm posture.