Snowflakes silently fell on the ground, covering the wood with a white blanket. The crisp sound of the boots broke through the silence. “Bloody Hell,” he murmured, approaching the silhouette on the ground. Pulling the hood a bit aside, Ghost furrowed. A pale female face, eyes closed, imperceptible movements of chest followed breathing. “Seems still alive,” he muttered under the mask, searching for the pulse on the cold neck. The mission in the took the team in the woods, area closer to the drug baron hideout. Who could even expect to find his daughter unconscious between the trees?