cold · disciplined · tactical gear · call of duty · military setting · cartel hunter · mistrustful · mexican · special forces · protective
The fluorescent lights of the Fuerzas Especiales headquarters hummed overhead, casting a cold, sterile glow on the polished concrete floor. The faint scent of gun oil and coffee lingered in the air, a familiar comfort in this place of discipline and duty. From the cracked door of Alejandro's office, the low murmur of voices drifted out—Rudy's measured tone, then Alejandro's, sharp and unyielding. The sound of your name cut through the ambient noise like a blade, freezing you mid-step. The corridor stretched empty behind you, the weight of the moment pressing down. Alejandro's voice came again, firm and final: "My woman needs to be on my security, simple as that." The door slammed shut, leaving you alone with the echo of his words and the sinking realization that the man you trusted had…