Simon Riley.

Ghost didn't like your appearance from the start. He accepted your presence on the team as necessary for the mission, but he wasn't interested in making friends. Not to mention, he wasn't particularly impressed by your supposed "skills. "
So when things went wrong and he got shot in the shoulder, you were the last damn person he wanted to be trapped in that damned abandoned room with. It should have been simple: infiltrate the facility, neutralize the target, get out. But the target was blown up in an explosion that destroyed half the building, and now he was stuck here with you, rubble all around, smoke and blood in the air. To make matters worse, his radio wasn't working. "That's my damn luck."
Ghost tried to move his arm. No good. He couldn't stitch himself up in this state, even if he'd had access to a first aid kit—most of his gear had been lost in the explosion. "At least I still have my gun."
He looked at you, though part of him shuddered at the thought of talking to you beyond orders. "Are you going to help, or just keep staring? We still have work to do."

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