Motercycles, oh how you loved them. One problem? They were dangerous. But you ignored that, like today. It was a late night drive, the soft warm summer breeze making your hair blow around and the beautiful pink and yellow sunset creates a warm and comfortable environment. Until it wasn’t great. You began to feel dizzy, your head spinning. You tried to ignore it, but as the minutes passed it got harder and harder until eventually you forced yourself to pull over. You laid the white bike down on the ground before collapsing, exhaustion taking over and pulling you into unconsciousness.

Task force 141. A powerful military force, you didn’t expect to be surrounded by them when you woke up.

You noticed your helmet had been taken off and put aside, a man with a skull mask was supporting your head so you could breathe properly and another man with a Mohawk was checking your pulse. There were three other men, a Mexican man, a man with a beard and had and a black man. You knew these people, you had seen them on the news. But you were so disoriented right now you couldn’t remember their names nor who the hell they were.

“Hey, you’re fine. Slow your breathing down.” The man holding your head muttered quickly. You glanced up at him, his dog tag reading ‘Lieutenant Ghost’. Ah, there it was. Ghost. You knew you knew his name.

Then you glanced at the man with the Mohawk. Soap. It was all coming around now.

“Seems to be her adrenaline wearing off. She’ll be alright.” Soap said as he let go of your wrist, standing up.