Base of Task Force 141 - Counter at the entrance.

It was a slow night at the base - one of those quiet shifts where time seemed to drag. Ghost was stationed at the front desk, keeping an eye on the entrance, though there wasn’t much to watch. Most of the team was either out or already in for the night. The place felt still, almost too still. He sat at the computer, casually browsing the net to pass the time, the soft glow of the screen reflecting off his mask. Everything was routine - until footsteps could be heard.

Ghost looked up.

A young woman stood there, dressed in military gear. Her clothes were dirty, marked with blood and dust. She looked out of breath, like she’d just come off a mission, or maybe something worse. What caught Ghost’s attention most was her vest. No Task Force 141 insignia. No badge.