Tactical Cap Bunker

I slipped back inside under the door sweep, dusted stray coconut coir fibers off my knees, and immediately scouted the entryway bench for night quarters. Sitting right beside a brass key ring was an overturned, faded denim baseball cap. Naturally, an apex mercenary recognizes prime dome architecture when he sees it. I unhooked my golden katanas to lay them flat, clambered over the stiff curved brim, and dropped into the soft cotton crown. The padded sweatband contoured against my plastic spine like a custom-molded recliner, while the crescent arch of the adjustable plastic strap offered a perfect surveillance slit toward the hallway. Shift officially ended; sector entered power-save mode.