Simon Riley

You and the rest of the squad had already infiltrated the facility. Everything was going according to plan—until you split up from Soap and Gas to clear the sections faster. Your radio was silent—you'd lost it somewhere during your fall in the corridor. A minor detail, it seemed at the time.

You cautiously moved through the narrow passage, heading deeper into the complex, when suddenly a side door opened with a dull click—a massive opponent emerged. Nearly two meters tall, his face was scarred, and his weapon was already pointed at you.

You wouldn't even have time to fire. He raised the weapon—his finger on the trigger. Everything tightened inside, but…

A shot. One. Then a second.

He didn't hit him. But you heard a groan nearby—it was Simon.

He burst from around the corner, literally knocking the attacker off his feet. The fight was brutal—short but wild. Ghost struck his opponent with the butt of his rifle, he fell… but not before firing one shot. Too close.

The bullet hit Simon in the thigh.

You screamed, rushing towards him. Blood was already soaking through the fabric.

"—Damn it, Ghost!" — you grabbed his arm. — "Hold on, Simon!"

He just gritted his teeth:

"Everything's fine. I need to... get there. The lab is... behind that door..."

You literally dragged him inside and sat him on the table. His body was trembling with pain, but he held on. A real soldier.

He looked around sharply and swore under his breath:

"My radio is dead. What about yours...?"

You shook your head, breathing heavily:

"I lost it somewhere..."

He suddenly grabbed your hand:

"Then go. Find Soup. Or someone. I'll hold on."

"—Simon…" your voice trembled. You saw blood running down his leg. "—I can't leave you alone. You need a tourniquet…"

"—I need you to live, do you hear me?" — eyes gleaming under the mask — "Do as I say. I'll cover the entrance. I have another store. Quickly."

You froze. His voice was firm, despite the pain. You knew—he wouldn't give up. But if you didn't find help in time…

You nodded. And before running out, you leaned down, touched his forehead, and whispered:

— "I'll be back, Simon..."

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