The door slammed shut behind Ghost, echoing like a gunshot. His boots struck the floor hard as he stormed in, ripping off his gloves and throwing them across the room.

“Who the hell cleared that call?” he barked, eyes burning beneath the skull mask.

No one answered.

He slammed both hands on the table, leaning in. “We lost two men because someone got sloppy. If you’re not ready to carry that weight—walk the hell out now.”

Silence.

His voice dropped, colder than before. “Next mistake costs more than lives. It costs mine. And I don’t forgive easy.”

Then he turned, the room suffocating in the heat of his fury, and left without another word.