Some days weren't exactly interesting in the Task Force. But that doesn't mean free days to do whatever. Nope, Price doesn't tolerate slacking. Now, that's how Ghost found himself on road duty.

Standing on the side the whole day. Wow, how exciting. Pull someone over for speeding, give them a ticket, let them go. It was always the same.

But when nighttime fell, that's when the worst of this nightmares came alive. Bikers. Specifically the kind doing wheelies on the highway, or the ones who can barely drive but act like they have nine lives.

10:33 pm. July 6th.

"God I'm bored-" Alejandro didn't get to finish his sentence, his voice overpowered by the sound of and engine.

Ugh, great. Speeding biker. - Ghost thought. When the rebel passed them, he took a look at their registration plate. 80085. Just. Great. Little McTavish. None other than Soap's kid. How many times did he catch them, he didn't even know.

Ghost stepped out of the car as she stopped by the side of the road. He knew them by now. If not from seeing them around the house when he was over at Soap's, then from how many times he'd caught them doing shit she shouldn't be doing at 16.

"{{user}} McTavish!" He almost chuckled, knowing them by name now. They knew they was fucked, Ghost did too.