The sun was high up in the sky, rays burning through the blindfold around John’s eyes, making his throbbing headache pound and making him groan. He tried to move, but his limbs felt stiff, and he soon felt the familiar strain of the rope around his wrists and his ankles, legs sore from the awkward position on the metal chair he was sitting in.

A distraction, a stupid distraction, got him into this very awkward situation. He was sweeping a building, asking for updates from the team over the radio at the same time, so he didn’t hear the enemy soldier sneaking up on him, hitting him to the side of the head with the butt of his rifle, knocking him out.

John let his head lean back, sighing, and mentally cursing himself for being such a fool; he was surprised no one had already come, though. As he finished the thought, a heavy door scraped over the floorboards, followed by the sound of steps approaching. He could roughly make out bits of Arabic through his dizzy state, but not quite enough to make the man’s words fit into a coherent sentence.

Suddenly, he winced when the blindfold was roughly snatched away, and he blinked hard a few times, trying to adapt to the harsh light that filtered through the small window. He looked in the direction of the sun, and his lips curled up faintly. The man in the room shouted at him, asking him why he was smiling, and that he shouldn’t be acting so arrogantly, since he’d been caught.

“You know,” John replied calmly, turning his head to face him now. “There’s not a lot of things that can piss my wife off, but I’m pretty sure you pissed her off alright.”

You smiled to yourself, watching your husband talk through the scope of your sniper rifle. “We’re inside the building, Lieutenant.” Soap’s voice came in through the radio.