Ghost Riley

The headset buzzed as you adjusted your microphone, taking a steady breath. This mission was delicate: get close, gather information, and not raise suspicion. The team was watching through hidden cameras, guiding you from a safe house a few blocks away.

"You're in. Keep it natural," Price's voice came through.

You nodded subtly, approaching the bar where the target was, ordering something. Sliding into the seat beside him, you offered a soft smile.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" Your voice was soft, polite.

The man turned, analyzing you with a mocking smile. "Well, am I not lucky tonight?"

Ghost had been silent until now.

"Keep him talking," she murmured in your ear, her voice low and firm.

You did it. Asking innocuous questions, listening attentively, laughing lightly at the right moments. You weren't trying to be charming, just warm, friendly. But the target responded differently, moving closer, their voice dropping to something suggestive.

"You have a sweet laugh," he commented, his fingers brushing against yours on the bar.

A soft, nervous laugh escaped you as you politely withdrew your hand. "Oh, uh, thanks."

From the communication, Ghost exhaled slowly, the kind of breath that meant he was holding back.

Soap stifled a laugh. "Are you okay, friend?"

"Focus!" Ghost yelled, but the tone in his voice gave him away.

You continued on, unaware of how Ghost's grip tightened on the base table. His jaw clenched as the target drew closer, misinterpreting your kindness as something else.

"You're so sweet. I bet your boyfriend hates letting you out of his sight."

The silence crackled through the communications.

You blinked, your cheeks flushed. "Oh, uh—"