https://youtu.be/2zXTaB_9JQg

Third Person POV:

Kandahar, Afghanistan 2024

As the sun began to cast its golden hues over the rugged landscape of the Middle East, a faint hum echoed in the air, growing louder with each passing moment. Amidst the silence of the early morning, the distinct sound of helicopter blades slicing through the stillness reverberated near a fortified compound nestled amidst the arid terrain.

Two insurgents, vigilant and alert, caught sight of the approaching threat. With trained precision, they swiftly readied themselves for engagement, their hands gripping tightly onto their weapons as adrenaline surged through their veins. Yet, before they could react, the sharp crack of gunfire pierced the air, disrupting the quiet tranquility of the desert dawn

As the helicopter hovered ominously over the compound, a tense silence enveloped the scene, broken only by the distant echoes of the recent skirmish. Suddenly, from within the aircraft, a figure emerged, clutching a formidable RPG launcher with steely determination.

With precise aim, the figure took careful aim at the fortified walls of the compound, the anticipation palpable in the air. As the tension reached its zenith, a deafening roar shattered the silence as the RPG erupted from the launcher, hurtling through the air with deadly intent.

The missile soared through the sky, leaving a trail of smoke and fire in its wake, before finding its mark with devastating accuracy. The impact reverberated through the compound, sending shockwaves rippling through the fortified walls as flames erupted in a fierce explosion of chaos and destruction

Five shadowy figures descended from the chopper with practiced ease, their silhouettes cutting through the smoke and debris like avenging angels descending upon the besieged compound. With calculated precision, they landed amidst the chaos, their weapons at the ready as they swiftly assessed the situation unfolding around them.

Meanwhile, in a dimly lit room shrouded in darkness, a solitary figure remained bound to a chair, a bag obscuring their features and their senses dulled by the uncertainty of their captivity

SAS Operative 1: Five tangos, two o'clock!

In a seamless display of coordination, the operatives moved with silent determination, their movements choreographed with military precision as they closed in on their targets. With weapons raised and senses heightened, they advanced towards the designated location, their focus unyielding amidst the swirling chaos of the compound

SAS Operative 2: Captain, more hostiles on the way!

Gunfire erupted in the chaos, the sharp cracks of weapons echoing off the walls of the compound. Amidst the barrage of bullets, the air was punctuated by the anguished cries and shouts in Arabic, a discordant symphony of fear and desperation that reverberated through the besieged stronghold.

SAS operatives, trained to withstand the chaos of combat, remained focused and resolute, their movements calculated as they exchanged fire with the unseen assailants. Each shot fired was met with a measured response, as the operatives advanced methodically through the compound, their determination unwavering amidst the chaos

As the operatives burst into the room, their weapons raised and senses heightened, their eyes fell upon the scene unfolding before them. A lone insurgent stood at the center of the dimly lit chamber, a hostage held captive at gunpoint, her eyes wide with fear

Without a moment's hesitation, one of the SAS operatives reacted with swift and decisive action. In a display of impeccable marksmanship, they squeezed the trigger of their weapon with precision honed through years of rigorous training.

The crack of gunfire shattered the silence of the room as the bullet found its mark with deadly accuracy, piercing through the air with lethal intent. The insurgent, caught off guard by the sudden assault, crumpled to the ground in a motionless heap, the grip on their weapon loosening as they look at the corpse

SAS Operative 1: This is Zero One Alpha, we have secured Dove. I repeat, we have secured Dove.

Baseplate: Copy that, Zero One Alpha.

The operative, wearing a black tactical suit and gas mask rushes to the hostage, who was kneeling down, crying and panicking with a bag over their head

He halts in his approach as he observed the hostage more closely. The blond woman, her tear-streaked face contorted with fear and anguish, recoiled at his presence, her body tensing with apprehension as she instinctively pulled away.

Hostage: No! Back off!

He helps her get up, but the young woman keeps resisting

SAS Operative 1: Hey! Calm down...

Daisy: Get away!

The Operative then removes his mask, revealing it to be Y/N Rockford, playboy, aristocrat and Captain for the Special Air Service

Y/N: It's me...cousin.

Overwhelmed by emotion, Daisy rushed into Y/N's arms, her body shaking with sobs as she clung to him desperately

Y/N: You're coming back home, Princess. Big Bird, take us back to base.

Big Bird: Copy that, sir.

With the mission accomplished and Daisy safely in their custody, the operatives moved with practiced efficiency to escort her to the waiting helicopter. As they boarded the aircraft, Y/N kept a watchful eye on Daisy, his presence a source of comfort and reassurance in the midst of her ordeal

...

The helicopter touched down with a gentle thud on the tarmac of the U.N. military base in South Kandahar, its rotor blades gradually slowing to a halt as the engine noise subsided. As the door swung open, revealing the bustling activity of the base, Y/N Rockford emerged, guiding Daisy with a protective arm around her shoulders

As Y/N handed Daisy over to the medical team for a thorough evaluation, he reassured her with a gentle smile and a reassuring squeeze of her hand. With the promise of medical attention and support from the U.N. personnel, Daisy was in good hands, her journey towards recovery now underway

Inside a tent, Y/N settled in to report to his commander, preparing to relay the details of the recent mission. However, his plans were interrupted when he was met with a surprising sight: Edwin, an old friend of his family's, standing before him.

Y/N's expression shifted to one of concern as he addressed Edwin, his voice laced with apprehension

Y/N: Edwin... I assume this isn't good news.

...

Edwin: It was a...rather nasty fall.

Y/N: You could've called.

Edwin: Wel, I tried, sir. But with no success. Eventually, your brother decided, as the eldest son to dispatch me so that I could impress upon you the severity of the situation

Y/N: Is my father gonna die, Edwin?

Edwin: His Grace's condition is...serious. My instructions are to take you and Princess Daisy to the airport straight away. It's been cleared with your superiors

Y/N: Okay...let's go.

...

As the car rolled through the familiar countryside of Leeds, Y/N's thoughts were consumed by the gravity of the situation awaiting them at the Rockford Estate. The journey had been long and arduous, each passing hour weighed down by the uncertainty of his father's condition and the looming sense of responsibility that rested heavily on his shoulders.

Sitting beside him, Edwin remained a stoic presence, his expression betraying none of the emotions that undoubtedly churned beneath the surface. Daisy, too, sat in silence, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery, her thoughts mirroring Y/N's own as they drew closer to their destination.

As the car pulled up to the imposing gates of the Rockford Estate, a wave of nostalgia washed over Y/N. The grandeur of the estate, with its sprawling grounds and majestic architecture, stood as a testament to generations of Rockford legacy.

Stepping out of the car, Y/N was greeted by familiar faces, the loyal servants and staff of the estate who had served his family for generations. Their expressions were somber, their eyes reflecting the gravity of the situation as they welcomed him

He helps Daisy out of the car as well

As Y/N stepped into the grand foyer of the Rockford Estate, he was greeted by the imposing figure of his older brother, Charles. Despite the gravity of the situation surrounding their father's condition, Charles maintained a stoic composure, his demeanor reflecting the weight of his responsibilities as the eldest son of the Rockford family

Charles: Y/N...welcome home.

Y/N and Charles shared a long and heartfelt embrace, their arms wrapped tightly around each other in a silent exchange of brotherly solidarity. Months of separation melted away in the warmth of their embrace

Y/N: How is he?

Charles: Doc says it'll be tonight. Tomorrow morning latest. 

Y/N: And you? How are you doing?

Charles: Ah, shit. Everything is going to be mine...it's what the ancient texts say. But I don't want it. So I'll pass it to you, brother.

Y/N nods

Y/N: Fine...can I go see him?

Charles: Of course, Y/N. Follow me.

With a silent nod of gratitude, Y/N fell into step behind Charles as they made their way through the corridors of the Rockford Estate towards their father's chambers. Each step felt heavy with anticipation, the reality of their impending loss looming ever closer with every passing moment

There, Y/N sees his father mumbling random words, his mother, Eleanor sitting by the bed, holding Arthur's hand. His younger brother, Ian standing alongside his only sister, Abby

Arthur: Yes, yes. I purchased the famous Aston Martin that Sean Connery drove in Dr. No in 1972, ten years after the movie. It was a bit expensive, but worth it.

Y/N goes to Abby and hugs her tight

Y/N: Hey, how is he? Is he lucid?

Abby: Sometimes. He's a bit...in and out

After talking to Abby, he wrapped Ian in a strong and supportive embrace, his arms offering a reassuring anchor amidst the storm of emotions that threatened to overwhelm them both

Y/N: You're gonna be okay, Ian.

Ian: It's just...it happened so fast. The horse...

Y/N held his younger brother even tighter, offering a silent refuge for Ian's tears

After that, he goes over to his mother

Y/N: Mum...

Eleanor turned to face her son, her eyes red-rimmed from tears 

Eleanor: Y/N, my dear...

Y/N: Can I...have a moment with the Duke?

Eleanor: Of course...

Her voice was gentle, filled with a mother's love and empathy as she stepped aside to allow Y/N his moment of solitude with his father

Y/N: Father... it's me, Y/N. I just wanted to thank you...for everything.

Arthur: Why did you turn your back on us, my boy?

Y/N doesn't say anything and just lowers his head

Arthur: The Estate is not to be carved up, do you understand?

Y/N: Don't worry about this, just get some rest.

Arthur: And look after your siblings. Especially Ian...he won't survive without you. Do you understand?

Y/N: Yes, dad.

The Duke starts mumbling once again

Arthur: The third Duke of Leeds, mean old bastard. He killed 15 Frenchmen...before...lunch

Arthur starts coughing

Y/N: Doctor? Someone call the doctor!

...

As Y/N sat in his father's study, the weight of the recent events bearing down on him like a heavy burden, his thoughts were consumed by the gravity of their father's passing. The room was filled with a somber stillness, the air heavy with the weight of their shared grief.

Abby's voice broke through the silence, drawing Y/N's attention as she approached him with a heavy heart. Without a word, she shook her head, her expression a silent confirmation of the news they both dreaded to hear.

Abby: Y/N...

Y/N: Yeah...I know.

...

Y/N stood alongside his siblings, Abby and Ian, their faces etched with grief as they watched the casket being lowered into the ground. Each drop of rain seemed to echo the tears that fell from their eyes, mingling with the earth as they bid farewell to their beloved father

...

In the solemn aftermath of the funeral, the Rockford family gathered once more, this time in the hallowed halls of the Rockford Estate, for the reading of Duke Arthur Rockford's will. Edwin, the family solicitor, stood before them, his expression grave as he prepared to disclose the contents of the document that would shape the future of the Rockford legacy

Edwin: "I, Arthur Alexander Landrover Rockford, the 12th Duke of Leeds, being of sound mind, do make, publish and declare this to be my last will and testament. To my brother, Geoffrey Rockford, I leave a beach house in the Maldives. So he can enjoy his summer."

Geoffrey looks down and chuckles

Geoffrey: Smartass...

Edwin: "To my nephew, Edward, I leave my beautiful Porsche 911 1990 and my horse, Banshee."

Y/N: Nice one, Eddie.

Despite the gravity of the occasion, Y/N's words brought a brief respite from the weight of their grief, drawing a small smile from those gathered in the room

Edwin: "To my wife, Eleanor, for her loyalty and faithfulness throughout our many years together, I leave an anual allowance...that the new Duke shall bestow at his discretion. And my beloved labrador, Luna"

Eleanor's chuckle broke through the solemnity, a light and affectionate response to the mention of their beloved pet, a reflection of the joy that Luna had brought to their lives as a cherished member of the family

Edwin: "To my daughter, Abigail, I leave an apartment located in London."

Y/N: Huh...good job, Abby.

Edwin: "As well, a trust fund of £1,000 a week until she marries...a man"

Abby's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, though she couldn't suppress the grin that tugged at her lips at the lighthearted teasing from her family

Abby: Wow...

Edwin: "To my youngest son, Ian, I leave my collection of vintage vinyl records, along with my antique pocket watch that has been passed down through generations of the Rockford family. And to my adoptive son, Amir, I leave my 20% of my shares of the Coca Cola company...about 2 and a half million dollars."

The room fell silent as Ian absorbed the news of his inheritance, a mixture of surprise and gratitude flickering across his features

Edwin: "Now, normally, when it comes to the rest of my estate, including my title, the house and grounds, the extensive wine cellar, the art collection, the yogurt farm and the Mansion in St. Tropez, I'd leave it to my eldest son, Charles. However, he showed me no interest whatsoever in becoming a Duke. So, I'll have to break a 600-year-old tradition and name Y/N, my second son, as the 13th Duke of Leeds. So, in order to make things friendly, Y/N and Charles are to share the wine collection and the sports car collection. As well as my Brioni suits from back in the day."

Y/N and Charles exchanged a glance, a silent acknowledgment of the responsibility that lay before them as they prepared to carry forward their father's legacy as joint stewards of the Rockford estate

...

As Y/N walked along the tranquil shores of the lake, Luna trotted faithfully by his side, her tail wagging in rhythm with each step he took. The gentle lapping of the water against the shore provided a soothing backdrop to their stroll, offering a moment of respite from the weighty proceedings of the day

He watches Luna bound ahead, her playful antics a welcome distraction from his thoughts, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of peace settling over him. In the quiet solitude of the lakeside, amidst the natural beauty that surrounded them, he found solace in the timeless bond between man and dog, a bond that transcended the complexities of inheritance and titles

After that, a black SUV rolled to a stop near the lake. Y/N glanced over, curiosity piqued by the unexpected arrival

Stepping out from the vehicle were two men, each with a distinct presence that commanded attention.

The middle-aged man, with his medium to long curly hair and an air of confidence, exuded an aura of authority. His piercing gaze swept over the surroundings with a sharp intensity, as if assessing the landscape with a practiced eye.

Beside him stood the blonde man, his slicked-back haircut and glasses lending him an air of sophistication. Despite his more understated appearance, there was an undeniable sense of sharpness in his demeanor, a hint of intelligence that belied his outward appearance.

Y/N approached the newcomers, Luna trotting faithfully at his side, as he extended a hand in greeting.

Y/N: Good afternoon. Can I help you gentlemen with something?

Mickey: Good afternoon, Your Grace. My name is Mickey Pearson. I used to be in business with your father...