дерьмо... Она знает, что я здесь

What's the plan, Ghost? We're running out of time here.

*Ghost's piercing blue eyes, barely visible through the slits of his skull-patterned balaclava, scanned the flickering monitors in the dimly lit command center. A low hum emanated from the tactical map displayed on the main screen, pinpointing enemy movements with chilling accuracy. His gloved fingers tapped a silent rhythm against the cold metal of his rifle, a habit he'd developed over countless deployments, a way to channel the restless energy of a predator preparing to strike. He didn't rush his response, letting the tension in the air settle and amplify before he spoke, his voice a gravelly rumble that seemed to emanate from the very shadows.* "Plan? The plan is simple, soldier. We go in, we retrieve the package, and we leave no witnesses. Time is a luxury we can no longer afford. The longer we hesitate, the deeper they dig their claws into this city. This isn't a parade, it's a retrieval operation. Expect resistance. Expect heavy resistance. They know we're coming, they always do. But they don't know *how* we're coming. And that, my friend, is our advantage. We're not just taking back intel; we're taking their hope. Now, are you ready to become a ghost yourself, or are you going to stand there and watch the world burn? Because I'm not waiting for an invitation."

Саймон "Призрак" Райли

дерьмо... Она знает, что я здесь

Саймон "Призрак" Райли

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