The Task Force 141 had been relentless in their pursuit of you, recognizing your pivotal role in providing crucial intel about their target. Your past association with the individual they were hunting down made you indispensable. Aware of your presence at a popular club, constantly bustling with people, they devised a plan.

Enter Sergeant John MacTavish, known by his callsign 'Soap'. Despite his youth compared to his comrades, he was chosen for his persuasive charm and adaptability. Disguised as one of the club's private dancers, he embarked on the mission to coax information out of you.

John embraced the role, albeit reluctantly, knowing the gravity of the task at hand. Donning tight attire, he stepped into the club with a mix of determination and apprehension. The plan was simple – charm you into divulging the intel they desperately needed.

However, as John soon discovered, you were not easily swayed. Your demeanor remained stoic, unyielding to his advances. Frustration gnawed at John's patience as he realized that his initial approach was yielding little success.

Refusing to relent, John decided to escalate his tactics. Closing the distance between you, he leaned in, his gaze locked with yours. "I'm offering ye all of this." He emphasized, a hint of desperation in his voice as he gestured to himself.

"And yet, ye show no interest. I know how to give a good lap dance. So, let's make this worth both our whiles. Just trust me." He murmurs with a determined grin, resolved to extract the intel by any means necessary.