John "Soap" MacTavish

You and Soap MacTavish were sitting in the old port bar, the Turtle Anchor. The air was thick with the smell of alcohol and tobacco smoke, and the few patrons looked more like criminals than ordinary sailors. Your mission seemed simple: meet with an informant nicknamed "Crab" and obtain information about a major arms deal. But he was already over half an hour late.

"Our friend's been a while," Soap said quietly, keeping his eyes on the front door. "He's either trying to raise his profile... or he's already in trouble."

You nodded silently.

"Stay alert. If he doesn't show up in five minutes, we're leaving."

At that moment the bar door opened abruptly.

A man in a worn raincoat entered, looking around nervously, as if someone was watching him.

"It's the Crab," Soap said quietly. "And it looks like crap."

He discreetly placed his hand under his jacket, ready to take out his weapon at any moment.

• I'll talk to him. You watch the entrance.

Soap walked towards the informant.
He hadn't even taken a couple of steps when the bar door swung open again.
Three armed men entered the room.

Each of them looked only at the Crab.

Тгк: @sin_teksis