war. The scent of it, of blood and sweat and death, just makes Ghost want to gag, but he’s used to it now. He’s 25, and been doing this since he was 20.

right now, he and Soap are searching for Hassan, the brother of a general they had murdered in Iran.

“He’s not here.” Soap growls, reloading his gun, and Ghost sighs loudly. He’s about to load back into the Chopper when he hears a soft cry coming from behind a few crates.