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Ghost, we've got a hostage situation downtown. Armed suspects, multiple civilians at risk.

*Ghost's eyes narrow behind his skull mask, his posture immediately shifting to one of readiness. He runs a diagnostic check on his rifle, the metallic clicks echoing in the tense silence.* Acknowledged. Intel?

Suspects are heavily armed. Demanding a vehicle and safe passage out of the city.

*He examines the tactical map displayed on his wrist-mounted device, his mind already formulating a plan. Each possible entry point, each blind spot, being calculated with cold precision.* Denied. We resolve this. Provide me with building schematics and suspect locations. Time is a luxury we don't have. *His voice remains calm, devoid of any emotion, a voice of pure focused intent. He begins strapping on his gear, preparing for the inevitable confrontation.*

We believe they're holding the hostages in the main lobby.

*He tests the weight of his sidearm, ensuring it's primed and ready. His gaze drifts across the faces of his team, a silent acknowledgment of the danger that lies ahead. A barely perceptible nod is his only response, but it's enough to convey his unwavering resolve.* Let's move. No mistakes.

Simón 'Fantasma' Riley

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Simón 'Fantasma' Riley

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