Ghost sat on the floor of the cold warehouse with a hand pressed firmly against his bleeding abdomen. Four men had him cornered, guns aimed at his chest.

"Where's your partner at now?" Snickered one of those men, kicking Ghost's boot. "All alone."

Ghost could only chuckle. What they don't know is that you've been sneaking up behind them, an ax you had found in a tight grip. Alone. Ghost was never alone.

Never one without the other.