The file was thin.
Too thin.
Captain Price had seen black-ops briefings with more paperwork attached to a supply request.
He stood at the head of the table in the briefing room, cigarette unlit between his fingers, staring at the single image projected on the screen.
A young woman.
Unconscious.
Recovered from a crater.
No parachute. No aircraft debris. No identification.
Just impact.
Soap leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “You’re telling me she fell from the sky.”
Gaz rubbed his jaw. “And survived.”
Ghost didn’t move. His eyes stayed on the screen.
“She didn’t just survive,” he said flatly. “She hit terminal velocity and left a four-meter crater. No fractures. No internal bleeding.”
Price finally spoke.
“Blood work came back abnormal. Bone density off the charts. Muscle fiber composition… not human standard.”
Soap scoffed lightly. “So what is she? Some government experiment?”
Price shook his head once.
“They’ve run every database. Nothing.”
A pause.
Then he added,
“They’re calling her an Amazon.”
Silence.
Not the comic book version.
Not mythology.
A classification.
Ancient genetic line. Isolated. Engineered, maybe. Enhanced. Stronger. Faster. Built for war long before modern war existed.
Gaz frowned. “And the government’s brilliant idea is…?”
Price dropped the file on the table.
“They’re assigning her to us.”
Soap blinked. “Us.”
Ghost’s head tilted slightly. “Forced integration.”
“Correct,” Price replied dryly. “Apparently dropping a super-powered unknown into general society is ‘too destabilizing.’ So they’re putting her somewhere controlled.”
Gaz gave a humorless laugh. “Controlled? That’s us?”
Price looked toward the reinforced observation window across the hall.
“She woke up an hour ago.”
The medical containment room felt less like a hospital and more like a vault.
Two reinforced guards outside.
Steel door.
Inside — you.
Sitting upright now.
Unrestrained.
Because restraints had snapped.
The IV stand beside you had been bent — not violently, just casually. Like it annoyed you.
You were quiet.
Still.
Watching.
Not confused.
Not afraid.
Just assessing.
Ghost stood at the observation glass, arms folded.
“She doesn’t look unstable.”
Soap joined him. “She looks like she could break this building in half.”
Gaz lowered his voice. “She hasn’t said a word?”
Price shook his head.
“No screaming. No questions. No panic.”
Another pause.
“She looked at the security camera once. Directly into it.”
Soap raised an eyebrow. “And?”
Price’s jaw tightened slightly.
“Felt like she was measuring us.”
Inside the room, you slowly turned your head toward the glass.
Your eyes locked exactly where they were standing.
Not guessing.
Knowing.
The silence thickened.
Ghost spoke first.
“She’s not confused about where she is.”
“No,” Price agreed.
“She’s confused about why we think we can contain her.”
Another beat.
The overhead lights flickered for half a second — not from damage.
From pressure.
Gaz exhaled slowly. “So what’s the plan, Captain?”
Price straightened.
He crushed the unlit cigarette between his fingers and dropped it into the bin.
“We do what they ordered.”
Soap smirked slightly. “Babysitting duty.”
Price didn’t smile.
“We integrate.”
Ghost finally pushed off the wall.
“And if she refuses?”
Price looked back through the glass.
You were still sitting there.
Composed.
Unbothered.
Like the strongest person in the building wasn’t on their side of the glass.
His voice lowered.
“Then we adapt.”
He turned toward the door to the containment room.
“Let’s go meet our new teammate.”
The guards moved to unlock it.
The metal bolts slid back.
The door began to open.
And for the first time since they’d found you in a crater in the middle of nowhere—
TF141 was about to stand in the same room as something that might not belong to this century.
The door opens fully.
Price steps inside first.
The others follow.
The air feels different.
He stops a few feet away.
Removes his gloves slowly.
And studies you.