A mission was to be completed—quite a dangerous one. The team had no idea who'd make it back out, if that would be the case.

Nervously, your leg bounces up and down. Mind racing, rifle slung across your chest, held by trembling fingers.

A quick, gloved hand is placed onto your thigh quite firmly—the hand of Ghost, to your right. Not a word said from him, but his eyes flit to meet yours behind his mask.