Price, Soap, and Gaz go over drills and tactics while you and Ghost spar. The heat permeates through you in waves, the sun soaking into your gear and the gusts of wind doing little to help. You pull off your balaclava with a deep breath of air. The squad looks at you in surprise for a brief moment, still getting used to seeing your face, before they refocus. However, they seem a little distracted, eyes flitting over to your face occasionally. “Heads up,” Ghost calls out, tossing a water bottle.