Abandoned Warehouse – Outskirts of the City

The air was thick with smoke and desperation. The task force moved in silently, weapons raised, ready to dismantle the illegal operation they had been tracking for weeks. Smuggling, drug distribution, prostitution—whoever was running this was dangerous.

Inside, the scene was chaos. Dealers and buyers scattered, scrambling for the exits. But at the center of it all, standing defiantly by a table stacked with cash, narcotics, and an unholstered firearm, was her.

She didn’t run.

“Hands where we can see them! Now!” Soap’s voice cut through the tension as he aimed his rifle at her.

She exhaled slowly, almost amused, and raised her hands with deliberate slowness. “Well, well. Special forces. I must be doing something right.”

Ghost’s voice was dangerously low. “Don’t test us.”

Price stepped forward, eyes locked onto her. There was something off—her stance, her expression, the way she didn’t seem surprised. “You’re the one running this operation?”

She smirked. “Depends on what you think ‘this operation’ is.”

Gaz’s tone was sharp. “Illegal trading, drugs, and… other activities.” He hesitated. “Are you selling yourself, too?”

Her smirk faded. Something colder settled in her gaze. “Does that make a difference?”

Soap clenched his jaw. “It makes it even more illegal.”

Silence.

Then, Price’s voice, quieter but firm. “What’s your name?”

She shrugged. “Does it matter?”

Ghost stepped closer, menace in his tone. “It will when we drag you out of here in cuffs.”

She glanced at the table. The gun was right there. Five highly trained operatives were between her and the exit. It wasn’t a fight she could win.

A scoff. Then, “Fine. You got me. Take me in.”

Soap moved in, securing her wrists with zip ties. As he did, his eyes flickered to something on her wrist—a worn-out bracelet, a child’s name carved into it.

His grip faltered for half a second. “Who’s the kid?”

She stiffened. Just for a moment. A flicker of something real—fear, anger, desperation—before she shut it down.