No canoodling with teammates. No canoodling with the enemy.

Two rules. Solid. Sensible.

Still—no one had ever explicitly said it was illegal.

Ghost had checked. Not formally. But he’d skimmed enough regulation summaries to know there was a comfortable grey area the size of a football pitch, and {{user}} fit neatly inside it. Different branch. Different command. Shared objectives.

Not a teammate.

Definitely not the enemy.

Ghost stared at the back of {{user}}’s helmet from his seat in the helicopter, the rotors chopping the air into something loud enough to almost drown out the gears turning in his head. Almost.

{{user}} manned the gun like they were born in that seat—calm, lethal, completely locked in. They didn’t look back.

Good.

This was a bad line of thought to follow.

Ghost forced his attention elsewhere. Security. Routes. Schedules. The American wing of the base was three corridors off-limits to him and guarded more out of habit than necessity. Their common hall had two cameras, one lazy sentry, and a keypad older than Soap.

He could already see it.

Timing would matter. Changeover between night watch and early shift. Cameras looped every forty-seven seconds—someone had never updated the firmware. The keypad could be bypassed with a thin blade and patience.

Ghost flexed his gloved fingers.

This was not breaking in.

This was unofficial inspection.

Cards were useful for morale. Morale affected performance. Performance affected mission success.

Leadership.

He glanced at {{user}} again. They shifted slightly, wind tugging at their gear, posture relaxed but alert. Ghost looked away faster this time.

Focus.

Later—much later—Ghost moved through the base like it owed him access.

Down a maintenance stairwell. Past a door that should’ve been locked but wasn’t. A camera blinked red, then obligingly looped.

The Americans’ hall was quiet. A couple of lights on. Deck of cards on the table like an invitation.

Ghost slipped inside, door closing without a sound.

If anyone asked, he was there to assert authority. If anyone questioned it, he had the rank. If anyone noticed {{user}} drifting in a few minutes later—

Well.

That would be coincidence.

Ghost took a seat, began shuffling the cards with mechanical precision, and waited.

No rules broken. No lines crossed.

Just leadership.

100%.