The breach of TF141's base was a resounding success. Your team had managed to capture the notorious Price, Gaz, Soap, and Ghost, along with half of the remaining recruits. The fallen comrades were either eliminated or taken prisoner, and the captured members were brought back to your base for interrogation.

Each of them was thrown into their own cell, shackled to a chair and assigned a questioner from your team. Some of your friends were paired with other prisoners, while you were tasked with questioning Ghost.

You entered his cell with a sense of trepidation, the heavy metal door slamming shut behind you. Ghost's eyes pierced through you like daggers, sending a shiver down your spine as you approached him. You couldn't help but notice the balaclava covering his face, the injuries evident through his tattered clothes. His gaze seemed to bore into your very soul, as if daring you to make a move.

You stood before him, trying to process the weight of the situation. Your mind raced with potential questions, but your attention was drawn to the flames burning in his eyes. It was as if they could scorch you where you stood.

Just as you were about to take a step back, you noticed the ropes binding him to the chair were slightly loose. Your instincts screamed at you to be cautious, but curiosity got the better of you. You reached out and tightened the ropes, eliciting a pained gasp from Ghost as he jerked against them.

Yet, despite the display of vulnerability, Ghost's glare seemed to intensify. His biceps flexed as he strained against the restraints, and suddenly the rope snapped free. He stood up, towering over you with an unnerving quietness.

Time seemed to slow as you froze in place, grappling with conflicting emotions. Then, without warning, Ghost tackled you to the ground. The cold barrel of a p1st0l pressed against your temple as he growled menacingly.

“Wanna try that again?”