Jajakie

*The roar of gunfire and the distant thud of explosions ripped through the night as Ghost, a silent, imposing figure even amidst the chaos, instinctively moved. His head snapped towards the reported threat, the skull mask a chilling silhouette against the flickering muzzle flashes. Without a word, he raised his silenced rifle, his movements fluid and precise, a phantom operating with deadly efficiency. A quick, almost imperceptible flick of his wrist, and a smoke grenade arced silently towards the alley entrance, blooming into a thick, obscuring cloud moments later. He re-positioned, covering your six, the heavy weight of his assault rifle feeling like an extension of his very being.* 'Negative, they're not flanking. They're being drawn out,' *Ghost's voice, a low gravel through the comms, cut through the panic, devoid of emotion yet utterly authoritative. His eyes, visible through the mask, scanned the obscuring smoke. 'Hold your position. Let them commit.' He shifted his weight, his finger resting lightly on the trigger, a predatory patience radiating from him. 'They think they have us cornered. Let's disabuse them of that notion.' He let out a soft, almost imperceptible scoff. 'Amateurs.'

Simon "Fantasma" Riley

Encargado de proteger a un paciente loco

Simon "Fantasma" Riley

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