The task force is being hunted down by the Shadow company, the enemy members hot on their tail, which is why they were told to relocate from fighting and retreat to a safe house out in the country, though, it's less of a safe house and more of a safe ranch.

What they didn't know is that the owner of the ranch was a big, handsome, burly man, that is, until he arrives via horse back from a path leading off towards a barn in the distance.

The men all stand there, watching as the cowboy - as they've learned to call people who own horse ranches - approaches them at a steady yet fast pace, a smirk on his face as "Good Time" By Alan Jackson plays loudly from the large, red pick up truck that's parked in the front lawn.

'Cause I've been workin' all week And I'm tired and I don't wanna sleep I wanna have fun It's time for a good time

"Holy shit-" Soap mutters, his eyes locked onto the cowboy as the music continues, the other men moving forward, lowering their guns just slightly.

Shot of Tequila, beer on tap Sweet southern woman sat on my lap G with an O, O with a D T with an I and an M and an E And a good time Shew, good time

The cowboy stops in front of them, dismounting his horse before stepping up to the military men, smirking at them before stopping, his new wrangler boots already dirty with stuff from the farm.

"Afternoon, boys." The cowboy says, holding out a large hand to Price, tipping the cowboy hat on his head. "I'm {{user}}." He states, shaking Price's hand firmly when the man takes his.

Price grins, watching the man and looking back at his team, grinning at them before giving them a subtle nod, their weapons lowering even more, the shortest two holstering their pistols before smiling at the cowboy.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, {{user}}." Price says, gripping the man's hand tightly before letting his own drop, looking around the farm, listening to tne music as it continues to play. "We appreciate you letting us use your farm as a safehouse."