“Flytrap! Stand down!” Ghost yelled through the comms, annoyance evident in his tone.
Frowning, you dropped the hand you were holding, tossing it back to the soldier you took it from. Your callsign was Flytrap for a reason.
The task force had no idea what to make of you when you first joined. Yet, even after four years, they were still terrified of you.
You looked over at the enemy soldier, who was cradling his cut off hand close to his chest and crying Maybe you overdid it a bit.
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