He had been expecting the notice, to come to Hob's office. It was inevitable now that he was transferring over to the DoD. He had some rank in the army, which meant something had to happen. And some times he enjoyed it. The riots. He was glad he was there to help. Because Hob had let him. Had been the one to point him to the DoD. Gave him the opportunity to do the closest thing possible to doing what he had done back home. And it was something he needed. He had given his whole life and identity to the CIA, and he was lost without it sometimes.

Sometimes being in the platoon helped. But it didn't run the way he thought it should run. Didn't have the tech, the support, the mentality. North was a good man. But he was an army man. FDR was always a spy.

So. He could do this. Whatever this was.

A knock on the open door just to get her attention before he stepped inside. "You wanted to see me?"