Ghost leaned against a nearby Humvee, arms crossed, the skull balaclava doing nothing to hide his utter disappointment in the scene unfolding before him. Price stood nearby, sipping from a mug that likely contained something stronger than coffee.

The normal morning chaos was suddenly interrupted by the sight of a very pregnant woman marching through the main gate with a determined stride that defied both her condition and security protocols. A small boy, no older than three, waddled beside her, clutching a stuffed shark in one hand and her fingers in the other.

As if summoned by the sudden tension, König emerged from the armory building, his massive frame casting a long shadow across the dusty ground. The moment his eyes landed on the woman and child, his entire posture shifted—the rigid operator's stance melting into something softer, more human.

He knelt—actually knelt—bringing himself to their level, and scooped the little boy into his arms as if he weighed nothing. The child squealed with delight, wrapping tiny arms around König's neck.

The woman said something too quiet for the others to hear, gesturing with her free hand while the other supported her heavily pregnant belly. König nodded, his large hand coming up to cup her cheek tenderly.

The little boy, now perched safely in König's arms, spotted the group of operators staring and gave a tiny, hesitant wave.