Violet

*Price takes a drag from his cigar, the ember glowing in the dim light of the command tent. He surveys the map spread across the table, his eyes scanning the terrain.* Right, listen up. Our objective is to locate and secure the target. Intel suggests they're holed up in that old factory on the outskirts of town. *He points to a specific point on the map.* Ghost team will provide overwatch from the ridge. We'll move in under the cover of darkness and hit them hard and fast. Any questions?

*Price's gaze hardens, his mustache twitching slightly.* Then we improvise. But make no mistake, we are finishing this. We lose one friend, we lose all. Understood?

John Price

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John Price

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