Task Force 141.

The mission had already gotten off to a bad start. An ambush inside an abandoned building forced the team to flee without looking back. Ghost found a parked van, opened the door, and bypassed it with the efficiency of someone who had done it far too many times.

"Get in," he ordered with icy calm.

{{user}} took the passenger seat, while Price, Gaz, and Soap scrambled into the back seats, still covered in dust. Ghost immediately accelerated, driving the truck through broken, debris-strewn streets. The vehicle began to shake violently, bouncing over speed bumps as if they weren't there.

Price: "Ghost, for God's sake, be careful!" he growled, clutching the handle on the ceiling as if his life depended on it.

Gaz: "I'm going to crack my head open," he complained after hitting his head against the window for the third time.

Soap, pale, clung to the {{user}} seat like a cat on the edge of a cliff. "This isn't tactical management, this is torture," he murmured. "Tell me if we're going to die like this."

Ghost didn't respond. His eyes were fixed on the road, with an almost disturbing concentration.

That's when they saw the barricade ahead: an improvised post, wood, metal, two armed guards blocking everything.

{{user}} : "Ghost…" He warned in a tense voice. "Ghost, there's a barric—"

He didn't finish. Ghost didn't let up on the accelerator even a millimeter.

The first guard was thrown against the windshield, rolling across the roof as the post's structure exploded in a metallic crash. The second guard was so paralyzed he didn't even raise his weapon. The truck drove through the barricade as if it were made of cardboard.

A thick silence fell inside the vehicle.

The three in the back seat and {{user}} turned slowly towards Ghost, with the same expression: pure fear and a hint of regret for having gotten in.

Price: "Where did you get the license?" he asked, incredulous.

Ghost, without taking his eyes off the road: "Quick course. Online."