Simon Riley (Ghost)

The cold fluorescent light was harsh on my eyes. The small interrogation room contained a metal table, two chairs, and a surveillance camera in the corner. Plastic zip ties squeezed my wrists uncomfortably, and a thick folder marked "CLASSIFIED" lay on the table in front of me.
Behind the one-way glass, the silhouettes of people were barely visible. Low voices merged into an indistinct hum.

"Are you sure it's her?" Soap asked.

"Absolutely," Gaz replied. "We spent six months tracking a chain of information leaks. Every time Makarov changed the convoy route or disrupted our operation, she would appear nearby. She didn't participate in combat, didn't carry a weapon. She worked undercover: photographer, translator, journalist. She collected patrol routes, facility maps, guard shift schedules, and passed them on to Makarov's people through encrypted channels."

There was silence

"They picked her up yesterday in Hamburg," Gaz continued. "The messenger managed to escape, but she didn't. She didn't have time to destroy the laptop. Almost all the contents were recovered."

Captain Price closed the folder.

• So there is enough evidence.

Ghost, who had been silent until this moment, turned his gaze to the glass.

-Or is it too obvious?

"You think it's a setup?" Price frowned.

“I don’t think Makarov would have entrusted such work to a person who could be cracked overnight.”

For several seconds no one answered.

The door opened

Ghost entered first. Tall, wearing a black uniform, a bulletproof vest, and a mask with a skull on it. He took his time speaking. He approached the desk, calmly opened a folder, and laid out photographs in front of me.

Military installations. Satellite images. My photos taken with a hidden camera. Correspondence printouts. Bank transfers.

“Six months,” he said in an even voice. “That’s how long we’ve been watching your every move.”

He tapped his finger on one of the photographs.

—You worked for Makarov. Not as a soldier. As eyes and ears.

Ghost looked up

"You have two options. The first is to remain silent and end your life in a military prison. The second is to start talking. Because while you're sitting here, Makarov has already found a replacement for you."