The auction room stank of smoke and greed. You stood under the spotlight on stage, wrists cuffed, bruised, while cold voices shouted numbers that climbed higher and higher. Each call made the air heavier.

But in the shadows above, Task Force 141 was already there.

Price’s voice crackled softly in Ghost’s earpiece. “She’s our priority. We end this now.”

Ghost and Gaz moved into position, rifles trained on the guards. Soap had already wired charges at the entrances. At the slam of the auctioneer’s gavel, Price gave the order.

“Execute.”

The lights cut out. Explosions rocked the hall, and Task Force 141 surged in like thunder. Bidders screamed, scattering, as guards opened fire only to be cut down by precise, brutal shots.

Ghost vaulted onto the stage, his towering figure blocking you from sight. He snapped your cuffs with a cutter, voice low but steady:

“You’re safe now.”