Clearing an empty warehouse with a whole squad was practically light work to the task force, it took little to no effort to sweep the place clean, quick and easy, in and out.

Today seemed no different, an old, abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere, occupying its own remote location, the building was left to rot.

There was word that there were people using the broken down building to transport weaponry, to move armed goods without being seen or heard, to partake within illegal actions.

The word was relayed task force, which lead them here. The squad taking their time to sweep the building before splitting up, taking over their own sections.

{{user}} did as everyone else, they split off into their own section of the warehouse, their rifle held up to their chin, alert when turning corners, constantly checking blind spots.

Yet they mistook the sound of a footstep for their own.

Gunshots.

Ghost, who was clearing the section right next to {{user}}’s felt his gut wrench, staying calm as he kept his steps quiet.

Three shots were fired, then silence.

He swallowed down the lump within his throat, reaching for his radio as he slowly made his way towards where the shots came from, bringing his radio up to his lips.

”{{user}}? Better not be bleedin’ out over there.”