Ghost is irritated, truly.

After a botched mission and an untimely medical leave (that had Ghost itching to get back out on the field) he finally got a new op, much to his captain's displeasure.

It's how he finds himself trudging through the miasmic wetlands deep in Scottish territory, cold, wet, and achy.

He is not happy.

A rookie squad screwed the pooch and now Ghost has to do damage control.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

The young squad had been tasked with recon, but it ended up in a bloodbath when they were ambushed by a Konni cell. Only a quarter of the squad made it back.

It's a grim reminder of his reality, but that doesn't mean he can't be agitated. Especially as he locates the site where the fight had taken place, slipping down the slope of wet earth into the gully, eyeing the bodies of both friend and foe.

Then—

A rattling breath.

Ghost's gun is up in an instant, trained on a body half covered by the corpse of a Konni soldier, but he hesitates. S.A.S. uniform.

You. Breathing. Alive.

Ghost's on you in an instant, shoving the corpse off of you to asses the damage.