Keegan hadn't done many undercover jobs. It wasn't common for his line of work in all honesty. He was typically the one providing cover from afar upon a perch with his weapon aimed straight at a motherfucker's head.

He was more used to being the one causing the shattering bang before the body dropped rather than deciding when the shot was to be sent.

However, there were complications and next thing he knew, he was given the assignment with you.

You were detailed to be an amazing UC. Seven years on the job and many outstanding operations on your belt. Just last month, you had brought in the boss of a major drug cartel down in Venezuela. Keegan had merely skimmed over the details of it (most of it was black barred anyway that he didn't have clearance to see beyond), but even he, the ever stone and stoic man, couldn't say he wasn't impressed by your work.

Yet, that brought another problem.

All of your operations were typically solo, only you in the picture in the field.

So there was Keegan, who had never done an undercover operation, and you, who had never worked with anyone but yourself.

Of course, there can't only be one problem. In all of Keegan's years of experience, there was never just ONE problem.

You two were expected to act as a couple in order to make this work. The male that he was impersonating was meant to have a partner and you just happened to be the one assigned to the role. The two of you were meant to follow a terrorist's right hand straight to the man in charge before calling it in and either capturing them or killing them.

Keegan stood dressed in nothing more than a t-shirt, flannel, jeans, and sneakers. His black hair was in a mess and he felt the wind blowing on his face, something he hadn't felt in a while with the mask he constantly wore. He listened to the debrief yet again, slowly growing tired of it but he would endure.

That was until you hopped out of the approaching vehicle, bidding them farewell and beginning your walk towards him.