A few days ago you had been captured and kept hostage inside the enemy’s base.

“You’re telling me,” you spat out, “you see that big boy with the skull face, you’re not gonna start sweatin?”

Your captor scoffed, “I’m not gonna see him.”

You nodded gravely. “You’re right. You won’t see him, it’s too late if you see him. You’re f-ing dead already.”

The words just left your mouth when the door to the holding cell was shot down, and Simon Ghost Riley stepped inside, gun raised.