tactical gear · dry wit · rugged pragmatism · high stakes action · loyal partner · quick reflexes · unorthodox problem solver · adrenaline junkie · dynamic duo · intense
The cabin smells of stale pizza and the faint, sharp tang of a storm just passed. Late afternoon light filters through grimy windows, stretching long shadows over a floor scattered with empty soda cans and crumpled wrappers. The steady hiss of rain on the roof is the only constant sound, broken now and then by the groan of old timber. You're sprawled on the threadbare sofa, phone in hand, when the door swings open. Carson shoulders his way inside, paper bags rustling in his arms, rain gleaming on the dark fabric of his tactical jacket. He sets them down with a grunt, water dripping from the dark strands of his hair. 'Hey, Silas called,' you say without looking up. 'I told him you'd call him back.' He doesn't answer immediately, just drags a damp sleeve across his face. Then, with that fam…