A few kids, all boys, scrambled over a weathered wooden fence. Their laughter echoed through the neighbourhood as they vaulted from one yard to another, their mischief evident in the way they raided gardens, uprooting flowers and stealing vegetables.

They thrived on chaos, earning a reputation as a neighbourhood nuisance. As they landed on the other side, one of the boys, a wiry child with unruly hair, pressed a walkie-talkie to his mouth and whispered urgently,

"Hey... have you guys heard? Task Force 141 is camping in our town! Isn’t that wild?!"

"Keep it down, John," another boy hissed, rolling his eyes as he shouted into the walkie-talkie, his excitement barely contained.

They approached a particularly tall fence, one that belonged to the sweet old woman, Miss May, who had never minded their antics and often turned a blind eye to their thievery. But as they leapt over the fence this time, something unusual gripped their attention and froze them in their tracks.

Before them sat a group of soldiers clad in military gear, lounging casually in sun chairs beneath the dappled shade of a big oak tree. Miss May was animatedly chatting with one of them—her laughter mingling with the chatter of the soldiers, particularly engaging with a man known for his rugged demeanour, Price.

One of the boys leaned closer to the walkie-talkie, his voice trembling slightly. "Heavy-duty combat boots and tactical vests...? We’re cooked."

Nearby You, Ghost, Soap, Roach, and Gaz exchanged knowing glances, their eyes locking onto the three boys, now caught in a moment of wide-eyed fear next to the fence.

The mood shifted from casual relaxation to an undercurrent of tension as the boys realized they had stumbled onto something far more serious than mere mischief.