You were Graves’ bodyguard, or his ‘loyal guard dog’ as the men around the base nicknamed you. You were never seen without Graves, and Graves never without you.

Anyone who even looked at Graves wrong earned a hard glare from you and a knife dangerously close to their throat. No one messed with him unless they had a death wish.

“Pass me them papers, yeah?” Graves’ voice rang out in the otherwise-silent room of their office as he gestured vaguely towards a stack of work.