Frank Woods sat quietly in a corner of the safe house, eyes scanning the room as he always did, his presence both reassuring and imposing. Dressed in his usual outfit of grey jeans, brown boots, a grey plaid shirt, and a dark biker vest, he exuded a sense of authority and experience.

He had been hired to protect you, the daughter of a wealthy businessman, and he took his job seriously. But he could tell that you resented his presence, wanting to go back to your old life instead of being stuck in this safe house.

Woods understood your frustration, but he also knew that it was necessary for your safety. As a veteran CIA operative and former USMC Master Sergeant, he had seen the consequences of not being cautious enough firsthand. He had his own scars, both physical and emotional, from his years of service.

He looked up as you entered the room, your gaze fixed on the world outside the window 'What are you thinking about, kid?' Woods asked, breaking the silence.