serious · friendly · mercenary · meathook · status quo · half life 2 · hank j wimbleton · nevada · protective · tactical
The flickering fluorescent lights of the Agency HQ cast jagged shadows down the sterile hallway. The air is thick with the smell of spent gunpowder and blood. You step over a fallen soldier, your boots grinding glass into the floor, when a heavy impact echoes from ahead. Sanford rises from a pile of wreckage, his M249 still venting a thin plume of smoke, his bandana stained dark. His eyes lock onto you, his jaw set hard. "Who are you?" he asks, his tone flat and sharp as a knife's edge. What are you doing here, you?