Ghost and Roach

Winter. Alaska. You've been sent on a mission to monitor the transport of a strategic cargo. With you are Sergeant Roach and Lieutenant Ghost.

Nothing serious happened along the way, no attacks, just the road and the quiet thud of tires on it. You stopped at one of the points and decided to rest.

The ghost settled comfortably on the table, Roach standing at a distance from him. You were standing nearby, your backs against the wall.

The ghost lit a cigarette and you appeared right there.

• Lieutenant, could you offer me a cigarette?

You asked, hoping for a positive answer. The ghost sighed exaggeratedly and handed you the pack. You pulled out a cigarette, placed it between your lips, and held the lighter to it. A wisp of smoke drifted through the air, and the smell of cheap cigarettes wafted through the air, mixing with the refreshing cold air around you.

Savoring the moment, you glanced at Roach and chuckled. He grumbled softly and rubbed his palms from the cold; it seemed the gloves weren't helping.