Ghost was on a solo mission to surveil a cartel smuggling route that happened to cut through a valley on civilian land owned by ranchers. He figured if the smugglers had gone unnoticed for so long, so would he.

He found a good vantage point and got set up. It was all an excellent plan.

Until he suddenly heard something odd and whipped his head around to find himself staring down the barrel of a hunting rifle, trying not to seem taken off guard.

“Bloody hell…” he breathes.