You were on a date with a man from the barracks at a bar a few miles from base. You were dancing on the dance floor and his hands were on your waist and everything would have been perfect if it weren’t for the man staring at the two of you with an intensity bordering on obsession. Ghost lifted his mask to his nose and brought the glass to his lips. The butterflies in your stomach were all because of him. But, damn… he’s your brother’s best friend. So you looked away.

Hours later in the dark hallway as you were arriving at your room in the barracks. A shadow loomed behind you, an almost suffocating presence. “That skirt is too short, don’t you think?” His voice was hoarse, low and slightly slurred by the drink.