Hereford Base, England
No One's POV
0603 hrs.

"A little birdy role me you've been drinking"

Bandit didn't reply at first, instead he leaned back in his seat and rested his head against the cushion of the couch. "I've had a few" He replied with a shrug, looking to the side instead of meeting Harry's gaze. There was an almost lazy tone to his voice, as if he didn't put much effort into his response.

Seeing this Harry took a moment to study Bandit's posture before sitting down on a chair across from him. "You know better than anyone here what alcohol does to the mind. In our line of work we can't

"I know" Bandit cut him off. He had raised his voice and shut his eyes, and looked like a child who was trying to avoid a lengthy lecture form a parent.  The room fell silent for almost a minute, save for the ticking of an old grandfather clock in the back of the room.

Then the man who would be Six then raised his arms and gestured to Bandit and them himself. "Then talk to me. I think I know what's bothering you. It's Y/N isn't it?"

Y/N. Upon hearing his son's name Bandit opened his eyes and meet Harry's gaze, there was something akin to a fire behind them. The German's right hand unconsciously tightened into a fist and Harry was quick to take notice. "Of course it's about him" Taking a deep breath Bandit sat up in his seat and uncurled his hand. "He'll be here in less than an hour. I haven't seen him in over three years. Haven't talked to him in two" Harry laid both of his hands in his lap, intertwining his fingers as he listened. Already he was thinking of the best way to respond, the best way to comfort a understandably concerned father.

Father. That might just be the last thing any of the other operators would use to describe Dominic Brunsmeier.

"Sometimes when I look at the picture I have of him all I can see is his deadbeat druggie of a mother. And I hate myself for that" Bandit's tone had changed for a second time. When Harry had called him in he seemed distant, almost defensive. Then he seemed bored and distracted. But now he sounded concerned. Almost hurt. "And this is the last fucking place I wanted him to end up. I was pissed enough when he enlisted"

"We can't change the past" It wasn't the first response Harry had thought of, and it was by no means the best. But he trusted his gut and went with it. "But think of it this way, now you can watch over him on the field"

"And what do you want me to do when he gets shot?" Bandit harshly replied, speaking up mere secluded after Harry. "Do you want me to cradle my son has he lays there bleeding? Want me to watch as my only only child dies in my arms?!"

Harry sighed mentally and raise a hand to adjust his glasses. "Dominic.........you can't always assume the worst in every situation. Especially when it involves your son"

Bandit didn't seem to agree with his words and rose to his feet all the while Harry remand in his seat and simply watched. Bandit glanced down at his watch before licking eyes with Harry once's again. "I know. But sometimes I can't help it"

Small Timeskip
Y/N's POV
0645 hrs.

"This is your stop" The drive, who's name I still didn't know, said as the car slowed to a stop in front of what looked like the main entrance to the base. "Alright, thanks for the lift" I said, grabbing my duffel back from the other side of seat before I opened the door and stepped out. It was dark out, seeing how the sun had yet to rise and the only lights were from the street lamps and the occasional window of the complex that didn't have the curtain drawn. The cool morning air was refreshing and I got my first good look at what was going to to be my home for the next few weeks as the car I had just arrived in began to pull away.

The complex itself looked to be a collection of concrete bylines that had all been connected by various additions and hallways. But I'm no architect and I could be completely wrong about all of this. The important thing was that the mains doors were right in front of me.

Alright Y/N, deep breaths. In there was some of the greatest counter-terrorist operators and soldiers in the world, and know I have to make my first impressions. Something I've never been good at. No pressure.

Pushing my worries aides I walked towards the closest door but only made it five steps when it swung open. The light from side cast a pillar of light onto the ground the ended just shy of my feet, and in the middle of it was a tall silhouette. Standing there was a man who with a mutton-chop style beard. He was dressed in a dark jacket that and the Union Jack on the right shoulder, dark jeans and boots. Alright, his British. Don't make a joke involving tea or top hats.

He didn't say anything at first so neither did I. Instead we eyed each other up before he chucked and crossed his arms. "What's wrong lad? Cat got your tongue"

I see what you did there.

I couldn't help but smirk. "No, not yet. Just never been one for big entrances" I said with a shrug. He seemed to accept my reply and stepped out of the door way, closing the gap between us as I moved a bit closer. "That explains what you showed up so early. But like it or not introductions are in order" With that he stuck out his arm and I shook his hand. He had a strong grip so I tightened mine. I can't let him out due me just because he's bigger.

"I'm Maus" I said as he pulled his hand back. "But you probably already knew that"

"I had a hunch. The only fella here the same size as you is Mozzie. And you ain't no Aussie. We would have heard him coming a mile away. Thatcher by the way. Good to finally meet you"

"Is Mozzie that loud? Might need to get a muzzle on him" I think Dad mentioned him in the last letter he sent me. Something about a blonde adrenaline junkie with a motorcycle.

"Unfortunately. Unlike you he's quite keen on making a big entrance." Thatcher replied with another chuckle before he turned around and waved for me to follow. "But enough chit chat let's get you settled in. Quite a few of the others are wanting to meet ya"

I followed him inside and shut the door behind me. We were in a somewhat wide hallway that seemed to go on for quite a ways. Every know and then there were smaller halal that branches off in different directions N's up ahead I could see two flights of stairs, one on each side of the hall. "How many are up? I don't think me showing up is worth getting out of bed for.

Thatcher glanced back at me when I said that and had a look in his eye I couldn't quite make out. He shook his head and kept walking. "It's nothing like that lad. A handful of us were already up" We walked a bit further down the hall without seeing anyone else. Eventually Thatcher stopped and went through a door on the left, and once again I followed close behind.

Now we were in some kind of lounge area, as the room had tables chairs and a few couches spread about. There were at least two TVs hanging form different walls and I spotted a small fridge touched away in the far corner.

More importantly there were about five people in the room who all turned to look at us. Two men with long beards were playing poker with a muscular women with blonde hair and tattoos on her arms. Sitting at the same table was a slightly shorter women with back hair and a matching skull cap beanie who was reading a book on beavers.

However the person that was sitting the closest to the door was none other than my old man. Once he saw us he got to his feet and closed the distance between us. We locked eyes almost immediately and even through his expression didn't change I knew he was happy to see me.

At least I hope he was.