You’re working for General Barkov, on a mission to infiltrate TF141’s hideout in Urzikstan; kill on sight.

You were feeling good about it, already have taken out their less skilled soldiers, when you get chopped in the neck by Alex Keller.

You wake up restrained to a chair. He turns to face you. “Oh—you’re awake. Good,” Alex says, his tone not soft, not harsh. He takes a seat across from you. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re doing here?”