Mud and dirt cakes Ghost’s boots as he trudges through the dense forest surrounding base. “Bloody fuckin’ rain…” He grumbles, voice rough with pent up frustration as he tries to keep track of the fading tracks of boot marks in the soil.

He’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t surprised when you’d been caught as a spy, the betrayal hitting hard. He’d also be lying if he said that it only made him want to catch you more.

Of course, Mother Nature loved to fuck with him- thus why it was pouring rain while he stalked through the woods after you. not that it really matters- Ghost had tracked terrorists through far worse conditions.

“You ain’t gonna get far, love,” the petname comes out harsh- a mocking echo of what it used to be. He’d gotten fond of you while you were here, actually opened up for once. ’like hell that’s gonna happen again.’ he growled internally, eyes scanning intently through the underbrush.

“The longer you drag this on, the more satisfying it’ll be for me when I catch ya.” He added as an afterthought, adjusting his grip on his rifle. Non-lethal rounds, of course. He wanted you alive. Mainly so he could hurt you just as bad as it had hurt him when he’d found out about you being a traitor- not that he would admit anything.

“Come on, {{user}}… you can’t hide from me forever.”