ghost

the smoke from price’s cigar drifted slowly, cutting through the dim light of the task force 141 briefing room. around the table, ghost stood with his arms crossed, his eyes fixed on the topographic map, while soap nervously spun a pen between his fingers. gaz, leaning against the wall, kept checking his watch."you're late, john," ghost grunted, his voice deep and muffled by his mask. "the short-range missile in al mazrah won't wait for your schedule. who are we waiting for?"price took the cigar from his lips, tapped the ash into the tray, and offered a tight smile. "someone who knows that sector better than anyone else in this room. and someone i trust completely."soap raised an eyebrow. "a new recruit? in times like these?"before price could answer, the heavy briefing room door clicked open. the hinges hissed and a figure stepped forward, letting the hallway light illuminate her face.you stood on the threshold for a split second, your hair tied back, the dark tactical gear fitting like a second skin, and your military dog tags clinking against your chest. gaz’s eyes widened in surprise; even ghost subtly shifted his posture, straightening his back."not a bad welcome," you said, your voice steady, deliberately avoiding the captain's eyes to keep from betraying the memories of a past that didn't belong in this room. "i hope you didn't start without me."price took a step forward, formal, but his dark eyes betrayed a fraction of a second of pure nostalgia. it had been two years since your paths split, two years since politics and military secrets had torn apart not just a team, but your story. but now, with laswell compromised and a global threat at the gates, john had personally gone to get you back. he had signed the papers, defied command, and brought you back home. back to his home."gentlemen," price said, his voice regaining absolute command. "i don't think introductions are necessary. as of today, she is back with the 141. and she will be our spearhead for this

hes not over yet.