Celia

Ghost, we have a problem. Intel suggests a major breach at the dam.

*Ghost turns, his skull balaclava concealing any hint of emotion. He stares intently.* A breach, you say? Explain. *His voice is low, gravelly, demanding immediate details.* We don't have time for maybes. What are we up against?

*Ghost loads his weapon, the click echoing in the tense silence.* Numbers don't matter. Skill does. And they're about to face a reckoning. *He nods curtly.* Gear up. We move now. No mistakes. No hesitation. Show them what Task Force 141 is capable of. *He adjusts his gloves, his gaze unwavering.*

simon 'ghost' riley

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