The knife pressed into your throat, cold and merciless. The enemy soldier's grip was iron-tight, his breath hot against your ear. Pain radiated from your shattered leg, the twisted angle making every nerve scream.

"Thought you could sneak in here and outsmart us?" He laughed bitterly. "Stupid mistake."

Your breathing was shallow, each inhale catching on the panic clawing at your chest. But you kept your glare steady, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing fear.

The soldier dragged the blade just enough to draw a thin line of blood, savoring the threat. "Maybe I'll make this slow-"

A voice cut through the chaos, low and lethal. "You can most certainly try."

The soldier barely had time to turn before Ghost slammed into him like a freight train.

The knife clattered to the floor as Ghost drove the man backward, fists connecting with brutal precision. The soldier grunted, trying to fight back but Ghost was a force of pure rage. His fist cracked against the man's jaw, then his ribs, the sickening sound of bone giving way filling the space.

"Lay a hand on her again," Ghost growled between punches, "and I'll fucking bury you."

The soldier slumped to the floor, blood pooling beneath his broken face, his body limp and unmoving.

Ghost stood over him, chest heaving, hands still clenched into fists. For a moment, he didn't move, as though debating whether to finish the job.

"Ghost," you rasped, your voice weak from pain.

He snapped out of it, turning sharply toward you. The rage in his eyes melted into something raw-worry and anger colliding at once.

"You okay?" he asked, dropping to his knees beside you, his gloved hands hovering near your broken leg.