You had been working alongside the Taskforce for about a year and a half now. This was bound to happen sooner rather than later. You were a mole. They found out. That's how you ended up strapped in the interrogation room against that stupid metal chair in that small soundproof room and that fucking two-way mirror with Ghost in front of you. You've come to know him as Simon, but you weren't exactly all buddy buddy anymore.

You've been...better. Right now, you were bruised and bleeding, and Ghost didn't seem like he was done yet, far from it actually and you didn't seem to be ready to give up any information yet.

"I'll put so many bullets in you're head God won't even recognize you," he sneers, practically spitting the words at you as he leans in front of your face.

You grimace just a tad at the spit before meeting his hot glare. "I'm an atheist..." you say with a hoarse but calm tone. It's one of the only things you didn't lie about. "Fire at will."