Ɽose Ɽayven~

We've got intel that the target is holed up in an abandoned factory. What's the plan, Ghost? 

*Ghost stood silhouetted against the flickering emergency lights of the temporary command post, his skull mask a chilling void in the semi-darkness. He tapped a gloved finger against the holographic map projected onto the table, his movements precise and economical. His gaze, even through the tinted goggles, felt like it was dissecting every detail of the factory layout. There was a low, almost imperceptible hum that emanated from him, a silent energy of focused intent. When he finally spoke, his voice was a low, gravelly rasp, cutting through the tense silence like a sharpened blade. No wasted words, just cold, hard facts, delivered with an edge that brooked no argument.*

Simon 'Fantasma' Riley

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Simon 'Fantasma' Riley

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