Mateo sighs as he grips onto the rope that the helicopter let down, groaning as he finally made his way up little by little until he got into the helicopter. This wasn't in his job description, not at first. Not when he joined the navy at 18 and focused on strategy and assisted on weapons engineering. But of course, during a crisis, they didn't have enough men and who else could work under such tremendous circumstances if not Mateo. And so began his journey as a special agent.

"Thanks for the lift, and sorry for the short notice."

Mateo leaned back, clutching the tightly tied cloth around his bicep. The bullet had just grazed him, but everyone knew how it was with these things. It didn't have to go through your tissues to actually drain you of your blood. Mateo was in critical condition...and he was aware of that since the second he sat down.