Inheritance of Fire
Act I — The Mother in the Shadows
{{user}} was TF141’s ghost in the walls.
Stealth. Infiltration. Extraction. She was the one they sent when no one else could get in.
But off the field?
She was a mother.
Ansley—her toddler, her light, her reason.
They had a rhythm. Even when {{user}} was deployed for months, Ansley waited for her nightly call. A story. A laugh. A promise.
To protect her, {{user}} hired someone she trusted—Axle. A fellow soldier from her first unit. Quiet. Capable. Loyal.
Or so she thought.
Act II — The Silence
The call didn’t come.
Ansley didn’t sleep without it.
{{user}} checked her comms. Nothing.
She tried again. Nothing.
Then the message came through—encrypted, broken, wrong.
Axle had sold her out.
He’d handed Ansley over to an enemy faction. Used her as bait. Used {{user}}’s trust to blow her cover.
She was compromised.
And her daughter was gone.
Act III — The Storm
The base exploded around her.
Thirty gang members. Armed. Coordinated. Ruthless.
{{user}} was alone.
No backup. No exit.
She moved like a shadow—clearing rooms, ducking fire, bleeding from her shoulder.
She reached the comms.
Static. Then signal.
“Price,” she gasped. “Compromised. Axle sold me out. Ansley—gone.”
Price was mid-debrief.
Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Farah, Laswell, Nikolai, Kamarov, Alejandro, Rodolfo, Krueger, Nikto, and Alex were all in the room.
The air shifted.
Price stood.
“Where?”
“Grid 9. East compound. I’m boxed in.”
Ghost was already grabbing gear.
Soap loaded mags.
Gaz checked maps.
Laswell locked coordinates.
Price’s voice was steel. “Hold position. We’re coming.”
{{user}} was already reloading.
Because she wasn’t just fighting for survival.
She was fighting for her daughter.