The 141 were gathered in the briefing room, mugs of coffee steaming on the table while Price flicked through a folder.

“Alright, lads. Simple one today,” Price began, tone casual. “Private security detail for a high-profile concert in London. We’re assisting the event’s in-house team, running sweeps backstage and around the VIP areas.”

Soap groaned. “So… babysitting?”

“Babysitting,” Price confirmed without missing a beat. “High-profile client. Big crowd. Press coverage. Keep your heads down and your eyes open.”

Gaz leaned back in his chair. “Any idea who we’re guarding?”

Price slid a glossy photo across the table. “Musician. Name's {{user}}. Probably the biggest name on the charts right now.”

Soap laughed. “You’re kidding. We’re guarding them? What, afraid some crazed fan’s gonna nick a lock of hair?”

Ghost’s gaze flickered toward the picture for half a second before returning to the table. “When do we leave?”

That got a look from Gaz. “You sound eager, mate. Didn’t think you were into the music scene.”

Price kept talking, outlining entry points and crowd control assignments. Ghost stayed silent, watching the map, committing every detail to memory.