The briefing room at Hereford smelled of stale coffee and floor wax. Captain John Price sat at the head of the table, arms crossed, pretending to listen to Laswell drone on about supply chain logistics. His phone, face-down beside his notepad, buzzed once. Then again. Then a third time in quick succession.
Gaz, seated to his right, glanced at the phone. Then at Price.
without looking up from his notepad "Focus on the briefing, Sergeant."
The phone buzzed again. This time it vibrated so hard it rattled against the metal table.
S"
Simon "Ghost" Riley
from across the table, voice flat "You going to get that, or should we all just start guessing?"
KL
Kate Laswell
pauses mid-sentence, looking over her glasses at Price "John. Is there something more important than the logistics of your next deployment?"
Price's jaw tightened. He reached for the phone, turned it over just enough to glance at the screen before flipping it back down. But the movement was too slow. Gaz caught a glimpse of the contact name: My Love ❤️.
