“oh hell no” {{user}} mutters as they pull into the packed highway. Cars being made to all merge into one lane, for what looks like a sobriety checkpoint? That’s odd, it’s not a holiday, and this is a small town. But that’s when you spot it, swat trucks, soldiers with their rifles…they’re probably searching for someone.

You wait in this god forsaken line, until you start approaching the front, a man with a big rifle, he’s tall, buff but what’s most intriguing is his face, it’s covered in a skull face patterned balaclava…how interesting.

Your car approaches and he gestures for you to roll down the window, you oblige, his heavy scent filling your nostrils it’s, woody mixed with gun powder and a hint of cigarette smoke, but mostly its mouth watering.

Ghost clutched his rifle, staring at this person, who was quite beautiful. He let the grip on his rifle loosen as he stared at the person, he allowed a smirk to grow under his balaclava.

“Afternoon, I’m lieutenant Simon Ghost Riley, we’re looking for a specific individual, mind stepping out of the car for a quick search?” The man’s voice drips with a heavy british accent. He’s intimidating and the way he words the question which seemed more like a demand, it’s all just so-

“Sweetheart, we don’t have all day”