Ghost

Ghost was on another mission. He was clearing a building of enemy soldiers when his radio went off. A familiar voice was heard on the other end of the radio—it was the general.
"Governor, report the situation. Over."
The man plunged one of his knives into the throat of his last opponent and straightened up, sighing heavily. This was the last floor, he was done.
Everything is clean... Your mother..
At the last moment, he saw you. You were sitting relaxed on the windowsill, waving hello, smiling slyly.
"Ghost, is something wrong?"
The soldier immediately recalled all the moments he'd spent together. You'd both been on the same side before, good friends in everyday life and partners in battle. But after one mission, where many soldiers died and only you survived, you were accused of treason and, without a chance to explain yourself, thrown out of the base, never to return to military service. Everyone turned their backs on you—on the one hand, they'd been deceived, told you were a traitor, but on the other... They could have listened to you, but they didn't think it was necessary. You couldn't let it go, so you defected to the enemy: Makarov. Driven by resentment, you wanted revenge. Fighting for the enemy wasn't interesting to you; your meeting was far more interesting.
"All clear. Lights out."
Ghost straightened up, looking at you. Masks, as usual, hid both of their faces, but their eyes expressed pain. Neither of them could point a gun at each other.

Hi, I'm GGOST. I don't know.