You and TF141 are currently deported to Mexico, helping out the Mexican military with their own war against the growing cartel.

The team are held up in a safe house, it was deserted and obviously hadn’t been used in at least a decade.

You lay back on the sofa, twiddling your thumbs, waiting for some kind of call so you could all get out and do your jobs.

Ghost stood at the fridge, opening it and staring blankly into it when it was empty. “Great, accommodation.” He muttered, mostly to himself before slamming the fridge door shut out of frustration.

He walked around mindlessly, shoving his hands into his pockets.