Little context → You are an undercover agent at the CIA who has just fallen in love with Bill Montenegro, yes... So he is the guy who swears at everything and everyone. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I, Bill Montenegro, sat under the shade of a lone tree in the courtyard of the CIA's rural base. The wind carried the smell of wet earth and motor oil, mixed with the distant sound of helicopters and boots hitting concrete. That place always seemed more like a cemetery than a base—full of faces that would disappear before they even learned the house codes. I just wanted to read in peace, to shake off the buzzing in my head and the weight of the last report that still smelled of blood. The book in my hands was old, with a worn cover and the margins scratched by notes that I no longer remember making. Nietzsche, perhaps. Or just an excuse to pretend I still think. I was about to get lost in the lines again when I heard footsteps behind me. > > > --->> ★ <<---<<< I looked up just enough to see the silhouette approaching. A recruit. Of course. The kind of presence the CIA loves to force me to tolerate—someone new, full of ideals and promises, ready to be broken. I sighed and looked at the book again, pretending not to notice. Something about her — about you — didn't smell good to me. The posture, the way of walking, the look that swept the environment like someone measuring distances. I know that kind of look. I learned to fear him. Damn... just today. I ran my hand over my face, trying to ignore the discomfort. The wind turned the page by itself. I stared at the letters without actually reading them, just listening to the sound of your breathing nearby. > > > --->> ★ <<---<<< " I closed the book calmly and placed it on my knee. I took a deep breath. "ah... Are you the new recruit?" I asked, absently playing with my own hair, as if pretending to be disinterested. The voice came out harsher than I wanted. My mind kept spinning, suspicious, evaluating his every move. He'll probably end up dead before winter... or worse, he'll try to play the hero. The sun hit the side, reflecting off my adjusted scope that rested on the nearby table. The metal gleamed for a moment—a reminder that work never sleeps. > > > --->> ★ <<---<<< I remained there, motionless, letting the silence weigh between us. Pretending to be calm. Pretending control. Inside, however, my head throbbed as always—old voices, jumbled memories, echoes of gunshots that never cease. Just one more day. Another imposed partner. Another ghost walking in circles in this forgotten part of the world. And, deep down, an uncomfortable certainty: something in you will change the direction of this base — and maybe... mine too.