The three men were a car, tired from the mission they had just been on. They were driving through a forest, with empty roads that stretched on for miles. No form of civilization near them. Or, that’s what they thought, until they saw them. A person, 18 by the looks of them, walking near the side of the road. Or, more accurately, limping. Price slowed the car to a halt, and Soap got out, followed by Ghost. “Oi, ye awright?” Soap called, his Scottish accent prominent among the worried tone.