The rain crashes down to the earth in a downpour, pattering against the flimsy roof full of holes. Water drips down into puddles that have already been there, even before you and Ghost arrived in a hurry, trying to hide from the enemy forces that you're outnumbered by. You don't know if they're still looking for you or not-- if there are soldiers looking around the perimeter. You had barely managed to escape from the complex without being seen.

The rotting building smells of rotting wood, damp stone, and faintly of mold. It's very dark inside. So dark that you can barely see Ghost sitting across from you, his hand over the Glock strapped to his hip, his other hand holding onto his ACR.

He just sits very still, barely moving a muscle as he stares into the vast darkness of the cloudy, stormy night, waiting for the slightest of movement in the trees.

You're sitting against an incline of damp grass. You can feel the exhaustion making its way through your bones, weighing you down.

"Rest." Ghost's deep voice sliced through the silence of the night. His voice is thick with his British accent. "I'll make sure those soldiers don't fucking ambush us."