Gaz walked through the wet streets of London, fog and drizzling rain clouding his view.

His mission? To blend into the public, so his Captain, John Price, can shoot down a suspected terrorist.

He glanced up at the roof Price was perched on, making sure his radio was working before sitting on a bench, keeping an eye on the target.

He sat {{user}}, his military dog, into a laying position as his feet.

All was going perfectly, until a mother with a stroller walked by.

A little girl walking alongside her, around the age of six, stopped and pointed at {{user}}, giggling as she ran up and tried to tug your tail.

Gaz sighed, gently but firmly grabbing her hand before she could.

“Please don’t touch, my dogs working.”

The mother didn’t even do anything, watching for a minute before going on her phone.

Prices voice broke through, crackling from the static slightly.

“Gaz, the target’s moving. Get after him, quick.”

Gaz cursed under his breath, standing and trying to walk away, but the little girl started to grab your fur now, tugging and yanking.

Goddammit, he didn’t have time for this…the target was on the move, and like hell was he letting the mission get compromised by some bratty kid.