Act I — Dust Settles, Trouble Rises
The bounty was clean. A gang of raiders, wanted dead or alive—TF141 delivered them dead. The town they rode into wasn’t on any map worth reading. Just a cluster of buildings clinging to the edge of the desert, hours from anything civilized.
They arrived at dusk. Price led the way, boots heavy with grit. Ghost rode silent, eyes scanning rooftops. Soap was already talking about whiskey. Gaz and Roach trailed behind, watching the locals watch them.
Inside the saloon, the team drank. Soap laughed too loud. Alejandro and Rodolfo played cards. Krueger and Nikto kept to the shadows. Farah leaned against the bar, Laswell quietly gathering intel. Alex, Kamarov, and Nikolai traded war stories in Russian.
Ghost stepped out after a while—too much heat, too much noise. He lit a cigarette, leaned against the porch rail, and caught movement near the horses.
Someone was digging through Soap’s saddlebag.
He moved fast. Grabbed the figure by the collar, spun her around.
A girl.
Young. Fevered. Bruised. Her arms were covered in old and fresh wounds, wrapped in filthy cloth. Her eyes were glassy, but she didn’t flinch.
Ghost froze.
She looked like she’d been through hell.
And kept walking.
Act II — The Weight of Her Name
She was the oldest of six. But barely more than a child herself.
Her parents had been killers—cold, efficient, feared. When they were gunned down a year ago, the town didn’t mourn. But they didn’t forget either.
They turned their hatred on her.
She took on everything they left behind. The debts. The punishments. The silence.
She worked every job she could find—hauling crates, cleaning stables, scrubbing floors. No breaks. No rest. Because every week, she had to pay $750 to keep her siblings in overnight care. A price set by a man who hated her family. A price she couldn’t afford, but paid anyway.
The mayor turned a blind eye. Her parents had killed his wife. He didn’t care what happened to their daughter.
Two days before she tried to rob TF141, not for gold, but for medicine because her two youngest were sick, something else happened to leave her in the state Ghost found her in.
That night, she was attacked. Raped. Beaten. Stabbed.
Another act of 'justice' for what her parents did.
She survived, barely.
She wrapped her wounds in whatever cloth she could find. Ignored the fever. Hid the bruises. And went back to work.
Because if she didn’t, her siblings would be on the street.
And she’d rather die than let that happen.
And that's how she got here, caught red handed trying to steal medicine, Ghost's grip on her arm tight as he looks over the kid with way too many marks.