David Webb, former SEAL sniper, retired three star general, master craftsman, and history professor sat at his desk, grading term papers. As a 70 year old man, he had seen a lot, done a lot, and been many things. Today was the end of his tenure as a professor at the United States Naval Academy, his things were packed up, and he picked up the last box of personal items, walking out to put them in his Mustang GT. He put the box in the shotgun seat, closed the passenger door, and walked around to his own. He slid into the leather seat, grinning as he started the engine, the horses beneath the hood roaring to life.

He pulled out of the parking spot, driving towards the front gates, passing through the marine guard post. Once onto the open road, he roared away towards his house in the mountains of Virginia. He pulled into his driveway several hours later. With the press of a button, he opened his garage door, revealing a large workshop with everything from a forge and power-hammer, to a draw-knife bench and racks of carving tools. He pulled in, shutting off the car, and retrieving the box, whistling a merry tune as he closed the garage door and unlocked the door to get into his house.

He took off his shoes and coat in the laundry room, then set down the box in his study. This done, he walked to his kitchen and retrieved a bottle of his favorite scotch. he took a glass from the dishwasher, put two ice cubes in it, then poured it half full of the amber liquid. He put the bottle back in his cabinet, then retrieved a book, The Thunder Below by Eugene B. Fluckly. He set his book and drink down on an oak end-table next to his arm chair. Then kneeling down, thanking his active life for keeping the arthritis at bay, he built a fire in the fireplace, and soon had a roaring fire going. He then snuggled up with his book and drink. But instead of reading the words on the page, he reflected on his life up to this point.

As a member of the special forces group commonly known as the SEALs, he had been on many missions that would never see the light of day, he also learned the importance of teamwork, and trusting your friends. His officer training had turned him into a leader. He had studied the leadership of such men as George Washington, George S. Patton, and Chester Nimitz. He knew what it meant to lead, and what it meant to be lead. He sighed as he remembered his buddies from the teams, all retired now, working for private security, or working for the government in some way. The good old days played back in his memory as he sipped his drink, rolling the liquor around, enjoying the taste.He remembered some of the stupid shit he and his unit had gotten up to. Like the time they had been stationed on the aircraft carrier USS Shangri la, and if something did not go wrong, then everyone would panic. He remembered helping one of the deckhands prank the Deck Officer by painting a sign on the deck above the officer's room reading "This is Officer X's Room, DO NOT DROP YOUR CHOCKS HERE" so of course, everyone dropped their chocks right there. Or the time they had papered their CO's office with pictures of Justin Bieber and One Direction, their CO had been pissed, but after about an hour of trying to find out who did it, the CO gave up and just laughed along.

He realized he was daydreaming, and looked at the clock, "22:00, well, I guess that is what I get for being a sentimental old man." He muttered to himself.

He focused on the book in front of him, and carefully marked the page with a bookmark, setting the volume aside in favor of looking out of his window at the star-dusted night sky. He had never gotten a chance to properly admire the sky up here. His weekends up here had been limited, due to his jobs. When working for the FBI's HRT following his years as a SEAL, he had made some money in his stock investments, and he had bought this place in the boonies, and his wife had lived there with him until the cancer had taken her from him. He got up and walked upstairs, grimacing slightly as his no-longer youthful joints complained. He passed their daughter's room, and looked in, seeing the toys that he had gotten for her when she was young. "My Little Pony" they were called. He may be old, but his memory was still perfect. His Sniper training had sharpened his memory to a razor edge. He remembered on his off days, sitting with his daughter, a bowl of popcorn between them, watching the show together. The rare moments that he had to share with his precious daughter were always his favorite. He sighed as he gently closed the door, walking to his room.

He turned on his shower, stripping down to get ready. If one were to look in at that very moment, they would have seen a 70 year old man who was still as muscular and well-built as a 21 year old SEAL. His joints and body may not have been what they used to be, but not from lack of trying. His active lifestyle had kept most of the old age away, but one could still see that he was not as young, nor as strong as he once was. He sighed and showered, washing away the day's grime before getting into some boxers and getting into bed, staring up at the moonlit sky of stars shining through his skylight. He gently closed his eyes, and drifted into the realm of dreams. Little did he know who awaited his presence, and how his entire world was about to change.

Author's Note

What do you think so far? Shadowsky/ David Webb is something of an oddball, to say the least, but this will come in handy later.
Also, 0 points for guessing who is awaiting him in the dream realm.