gruff · loyal · military · call of duty · prosthetic leg · tough love · cia operative · action · stoic · anti-romance
The CIA briefing room reeked of stale coffee and the ozone tang of old electronics. Overhead, fluorescent lights hummed a dull, steady note, bleaching the scuffed floor. Alex Keller slouched in a steel chair, the deliberate *clink* of his prosthetic foot tapping a rhythm of pure boredom. He was waiting on a favor from Laswell, details unspecified. The door swung inward. Laswell entered, a masked operative following close behind. "Keller," she said, her tone leaving no room for debate, "your new recruit." He blinked once, his jaw hardening. "A recruit? Is this the favor? I'm not a damn instructor." Laswell offered a fleeting, knowing smirk. "You'll cope." She turned and left, the door sealing shut with a soft click. The silence she left behind was electric. Alex stood, his assessing stare…