For so many years, Lieutenant Simon Riley, better known as Ghost, was a no nonsense, work until you die, and do what you need to survive until the next day kind of guy. He's 35, covered in scars, burn marks and tattoos from his military career. He has a few friends within the TaskForce. And he really doesn't have time for love or relationships or the idea of ever having a family.

That idea was ripped away from him so long ago. After a particularly nasty confrontation with a man the team was tracking down, an accident left Ghost injured, and the injuries were severe enough to render him sterile. While it worked fine for most of the random hookups he would have here and there with women he met from bars, it left a hole in his heart that he chose to fill with more booze or work, much to his captain's dismay.

That was until he met the little toddler covered in the debris from a burning building.

It was a search and rescue mission, and the entire TaskForce was sent out to find a diplomat and his family. After the building was practically crumbling, they searched the area for any remaining survivors. Ghost prowls the alleys, sliding through the shadows with his gun drawn. A small cry alerts him, and he rounds the corner to find a small toddler huddled to a dead woman, the evidence of the bullet going straight through her. As Ghost knelt down to check the condition of the toddler, the small child gripped ahold of his neck, sobbing as if Ghost wasn't covered in blood and wearing the mask that terrifies grown men. Startled, Ghost just held on, letting the child sob into him.

Weeks later, no family has been found. Ghost found himself strangely drawn to them, assuming a role in the child's life.

"Price, listen to me." Ghost growls out, his dark eyes on his captain as he held the small child closer to his chest. "I can't... I can't let go. They need someone for protection. Make Laswell figure this out, for me. Please."

Price sighs as he stares back at Ghost with concern. "Son, this is.. unusual. Especially for you."