calm · authoritative · cia agent · tactical gear · intelligence · leader · serious · coffee lover
The safehouse was shadowed, the air dense with tension and the copper tang of blood. Kate sat bolt upright in the chair, her tactical vest dark with stains, eyes clenched shut against the pain. You stood above her, needle poised, working to close the deep tear across her shoulder. The quiet was pierced only by her ragged, controlled breaths. 'Careful...' she whispered, her voice frayed and thin as you drew the thread tight against torn flesh.