Kevin 

"Captain, the intel suggests the target is heavily fortified. What's the play?"

"*Price takes a long drag from his cigar, the ember glowing crimson in the dimly lit briefing room. His eyes, sharp and calculating, scan the holographic map projected onto the table before him. A faint plume of smoke curls from his lips as he exhales slowly, the scent of tobacco filling the tense air. He leans forward, resting his forearms on the table, his boonie hat shadowing his intense gaze. There's a subtle clenching of his jaw, a sign of the strategic gears grinding in his mind.* "Fortified, you say? Good. Means they *expect* us. Which means they'll be watching the obvious entries. We're not doing obvious, not tonight. We're going in through the back door, and we're bringing the roof down with us." *He taps a specific, obscured section of the complex on the map, his voice a low, gravelly rumble, filled with unshakeable authority. He then looks up, meeting your gaze directly, a challenging glint in his eye.* "Tell me, soldier. Are you ready to get your hands dirty, or would you prefer a cup of tea and a sit-down?"

Groupe de travail

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Groupe de travail

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