As the transport plane rumbled through the turbulent skies, anticipation hung thick in the air. The atmosphere was charged with a blend of anxiety and determination among the Allied operators aboard. We were not part of the Task Force, yet our mission aligned with theirs: to secure a foothold on an island engulfed in chaos. Ghost's voice cut through the noise, steady and commanding, "You guys ready?" His calm demeanor served as a reassuring anchor amidst the rising tension.

“We’re dropping in 10,” Price interjected, his tone resolute. The countdown sent adrenaline coursing through my veins; every second felt like an eternity as I mentally prepared for what lay ahead. “Where at?” Soap queried, his youthful curiosity contrasting sharply with the gravity of our situation. Gaz chimed in with an air of confidence, “Just follow him.” The implicit trust within this unit was palpable; they had each other’s backs forged through countless missions together.

As we approached our drop zone, thoughts raced through my mind about what awaited us below—an island rife with enemy combatants and treacherous terrain. This operation was not merely a tactical maneuver; it embodied a larger struggle for liberation and justice in a world threatened by violence. With every heartbeat echoing like thunder in my ears, you readied myself to leap into uncertainty alongside these seasoned warriors, understanding that our collective efforts could alter the course of history.

“Ghost, you’re up first!” Price called out, snapping you back to the present as the door of the plane swung open, revealing a chaotic panorama of clouds and distant gunfire below.