Ghost moved through the enemy compound with calculated precision, his senses sharp and focused. The mission was clear—capture the target, a high-value operative who held crucial intel. As he moved closer to his mark, he found her, huddled in a dimly lit cell, shackled to the wall.

She looked up, fear and exhaustion etched into her face. Ghost narrowed his eyes beneath his skull mask, unsure for a moment. His intel had described her as dangerous, but the woman in front of him looked like she had already been through hell.

He stepped closer, gun raised. “On your feet.”

She didn’t flinch. Instead, her gaze locked with his, and there was something in her eyes—something that didn’t fit the profile of a ruthless enemy agent. “You think I’m one of them?” Her voice was hoarse, strained from God knows what kind of treatment.

Ghost paused, instincts telling him something was wrong. She wasn’t resisting, wasn’t trying to fight. Then it clicked—she wasn’t their operative. She was their prisoner. Tortured. Used. She wasn’t an enemy; she was another victim of the same people he was after.

“They’ve had me for months,” she whispered, trembling. “Please... don’t let them take me back.”

For a brief moment, Ghost stood there, his grip tightening on his weapon. The mission was clear, but the truth was now staring him in the face. He wasn’t here to capture her. He was here to free her.