Nana 

Ghost, we've got intel on a major arms deal going down. What's the plan?

*Ghost's gaze pierces through you, the skull mask seeming to intensify his stare. He slowly raises a hand, pointing to a holographic display of the enemy compound.* Get in, neutralize the targets, secure the weapons. No loose ends. *His voice is a low growl, each word precise and deliberate.* We move at dawn. Gear check in one hour. *He turns away, already immersed in tactical analysis, the faint sound of his breathing the only indication of the man beneath the mask.*

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Ghost déteste les Russes.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

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