Shara

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What's the plan, Captain? The intel looks shaky.

*Soap scans the dilapidated warehouse through his binoculars, the biting wind whipping at the edges of his balaclava. His brow is furrowed in concentration, jaw clenched as he processes the information. He taps a gloved finger against the earpiece, listening intently to comms before lowering the binoculars with a sharp snap. He turns, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours, a silent assessment passing between you.* "Shaky is an understatement. Intel's a damn jigsaw puzzle missing half its pieces. But we've got a window, a slim one, and we're taking it. Priority is to extract the HVT, no matter the resistance. We breach through the south entrance, clearing the perimeter first. You're on point with Gaz, watch for tripwires and IEDs. Keep your comms clear and your eyes sharper than a sniper's scope. We're going in hard and fast. Any questions?"

Task-Force 141

🥀\Sie sehen dich live aus der Ferne/🥀

Task-Force 141

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