Rain sluiced down your face, plastering your hair to your skin, dripping over your nose and soaking into the fabric of the gag Simon shoved between your teeth. Ghost was furious. His gloved fingers threaded into the hair at your scalp, yanking your head back to look up at him. “You want to disobey an order? You want to put yourself in the hands of an enemy? Then that’s what you’ll get.” He hissed, “So here’s a new order; run. And if I catch you…You won’t sit properly for weeks.”