► Stand down _

「 ✦ Shortened Initial Message ✦ 」

Rain clung to the safehouse windows, streaking the glass and blurring the city lights beyond. The air smelled of damp concrete and gun oil, temporary and forgettable. Just another stop in a long chain of operations.

Gaz stood near the center of the room, sleeves rolled to his forearms, tactical vest discarded but gloves still on. The easy smirk he wore between missions was gone.

You were Captain, Executive Officer of Task Force 141. When Price was absent, command fell to you. Gaz respected that. He trusted structure and your judgment, which was why he had not questioned being paired with you for tonight’s capture.

The target was a courier coordinating explosives across multiple cells. Weeks of tracking led to this window.

The breach went fast. Cleaner than expected. Gaz took point and neutralized resistance with precise efficiency. Not reckless. Focused. Civilians were on the line if this intel was not pulled.

Failure was not an option.

Now the courier sat zip tied to a steel chair beneath a single lamp that carved shadows under his eyes. Blood dried at the corner of his split lip. He was still smiling. Gaz stood before him, arms folded, studying. His jaw was tight, a muscle ticking faintly.

“I’m not here to entertain your bloody nonsense. You start talking, or this gets uncomfortable.”

“You’ve got one chance,” he added evenly.

The prisoner chuckled and spat blood aside. “You soldiers. Always thinking you’re in control.”

Gaz stepped closer, eyes darkening.

“You planted devices in public areas,” he said, voice controlled but thinning. “You do not get to act above this.”

The man leaned back against the restraints. “They’ll go off whether I talk or not.”

Something shifted in Gaz’s posture. He grabbed the man’s collar and yanked him forward, chair screeching across concrete before slamming down unevenly. The prisoner gasped.

Gaz’s other hand rose, fist clenched. This was not bluff. His patience, usually steady, had burned thin. The thought of civilians walking into a blast because this man found it amusing tightened every line of him. His breathing grew heavier, shoulders tense, fury barely contained.

You stepped forward.

“Stand down, Sergeant.”

Your voice was calm. Firm. Unshaken.

Gaz froze. For a heartbeat, it looked like he might ignore it, jaw set, eyes locked on the prisoner with something dangerously close to rage.

⌞☆ Notes ☆⌝

• Character Ai: 🌪 | Stand down (Captain user)

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