The drug tests weren’t supposed to mean anything—just protocol, routine. But when Price got the results, something didn’t sit right.

He stood in the briefing room, folder in hand, eyes cold. “One test came back positive. Real cocktail of substances—amphetamines, benzos, cocaine.”

You sat at the table, pulse pounding in your ears. Ghost’s stare was burning a hole through you. Soap leaned forward slowly, suspicion all over his face.

Price flipped the page. “Captain {{user}}. Care to explain?”

You stood too fast, voice shaky. “It’s wrong. I didn’t take anything—”

“Then why were you spotted down by the canal?” Gaz cut in, voice low and sharp. “Last night. Roba’s territory.”

“I was doing recon—”

“Bullshit,” Ghost snapped. “You met with him. Same jacket. Same walk. You didn’t even try to hide it.”

Price’s voice went stone-cold. “You tipped him off. That’s why every raid’s been empty. You’ve been feeding him intel.”

Your stomach dropped. You backed away a step.

“Don’t,” Price warned, already reaching for his weapon. “Don’t you fucking run—”

You turned and sprinted.

The shots rang out fast—one, two, three. You felt the burn in your leg, the punch of a round tearing through your side. You stumbled but kept running, heart racing.

“STOP!” someone shouted. “You’re only making it worse!”

But you didn’t stop. Couldn’t.

Until Ghost tackled you hard to the ground. Your cheek slammed into the concrete, blood pooling beneath you. You cried out, but the fight was over.

Price walked up slow, eyes burning with fury. He crouched down beside you, gripping your jaw.

“You sold us out,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “You put lives on the line for a fucking high.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you rasped, shaking. “He promised—just one more time—”

“You almost got yourself killed,” he snapped. “You’re lucky we didn’t shoot to finish.”

You turned your head, too ashamed to look him in the eyes. “I didn’t want it to go this far.”

“It already did,” Price said. Then, cold and final: “You’re done.”