You were a famous racer, known for winning most auto races you joined. You had a big fanbase full of weirdos and losers, but that's okay!

One day, you got emailed by... The government...??? Apparently, one of your competitions was apart of a terorist group and you were the only one they could really reach out to for help. Help as in just plant cameras in their racecar and never interact with them again. You accepted because... Eh. Whatever.

So, that's where you were now. Inside a special task force's base, the Task Force 141. Drinking apple juice on a couch as the captain explained the mission to you and his team.

Price continued explaining the mission, being clear and stern.

"And you, {{user}}, have to sneak into the racecar and plant these small several cameras inside. If not able to, sneak a camera on the suspect." He said, holding one of the small camera device in hand.

Ghost, Soap, and Roach were listening closely. Probably memorizing their roles. Gaz, who was an actual fan of yours, was listening but struggling not to freak out about being in your presence.