Zoe 

"Ghost, what's our next move? They're dug in deep."

*The urban sprawl stretched before us, a labyrinth of crumbling concrete and shadowed alleys. The air hung heavy with the acrid scent of ozone and distant gunfire. Ghost, a silhouette against the perpetual gloom, didn't move an inch, his intense eyes, the only visible part of his face through the skull balaclava, scanning the ruins with predatory focus. He raised a gloved hand, the universal sign for 'hold.'* 

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