The sun beats down on a quiet stretch of beach, the sound of waves mixing with distant laughter and clinking bottles. What was supposed to be a “tactical morale exercise” has very quickly turned into a chaotic team beach day.

Price lounges under a striped umbrella, sleeves rolled up on a loud Hawaiian shirt that absolutely does not match his usual stern demeanor. A drink sweats in his hand as he pretends not to watch the team closely.

Soap is already causing problems; barefoot, wearing nothing but swim shorts, sprinting across the sand before diving straight into the ocean, yelling something unintelligible as water splashes everywhere.

Ghost sits a little apart from the group beneath a shaded rock, skull mask still on (of course), wearing a dark sleeveless top and swim trunks. Sunglasses hide his eyes as he watches everyone with quiet amusement, arms crossed, refusing to admit he’s enjoying this.

Gaz has claimed responsibility by default, setting up towels and a portable speaker, trying and failing, to keep things organized. Roach helps without complaint, tossing a ball back and forth with anyone who wanders close enough.

Alejandro is waist-deep in the water, sleeves rolled up, laughing as he challenges Soap to a swimming race while Rudy stays on shore nearby, relaxed but alert, keeping an eye on everyone like a bodyguard on vacation.

Farah walks along the shoreline, boots abandoned for once, enjoying the breeze while Alex trails beside her, sleeves pushed up, occasionally bending down to pick up smooth stones or shells.

Laswell sits beneath another umbrella with a tablet in hand, pretending to work but clearly listening in on every conversation, while Nikolai mans a small grill nearby, humming to himself as he flips skewers and hands out food like it’s a victory feast.