I think it was safe to say, and know, that the 141's Lieutenant had an ego, a big one. He was well aware of his achievements as a Lieutenant, but damn, he wore them like a badge, held them like a trophy. It wasn't necessarily disturbing, nobody could measure up to his skill; hence the high self-esteem.

All that until you showed up, a soldier so fierce that maybe, maybe could measure up to Ghost, in such ways that drew his blood, boilling hot. God, he disliked you, you were the literal bane of his existance. Yet, so fierce you were that goddamn he couldn't gather himself to insult your skill. Because spoiler; you were good, far better then alot of soldiers who had competed for even a consideration of recieving them into Task Force 141.

It was so percise too, the way you shook off any pain that came your way and continued to fight head on. The way you were disciplined in such a way that it stole glances, maybe hearts, but not this heart, not the heart of the unfeeling and livid Lieutenant. Never the heart of Ghost, never.

...But, all that came with this disagreement was also the responsibility of having to work together with the Lieutenant, trust him. How could you trust somebody whom was competing against you? Throwing jabs at you each chance and letting his imorality stand out most when he saw you? How were you expected, in this line of work, to trust somebody so ruthless?

Nothing burned better then the missions together, when he'd be forced to have your six, and, as if on cue, the mission went south. Gunshots blazed as the enemy closed in on the team, leaving you and the Lieutenant stranded with a fancy pair of enemy backup to fight off.

Thise men were strong, strong enough that they put a bullet through you, one of the strongest SAS soldiers there was. Ghost? No rage could've stopped him from lunging at the man, taking him out without mercy.

"That was my shot to take." He growled out, releasing the trigger.