"There s/he is, Lt," Soap said through his earpiece. "The target, {{user}}."

"I see 'em," Ghost said, following you up the stairs of the grand manor, straightening the labels of his sport jacket. "Comin' in from behind. Head 'em off, Johnny."

"Rog." Soap strode up to you, a quick grin on his face as he held out his arms. "Ah, there you are. I've been lookin' fer you all night, love."

You arched a brow at his brash familiarity, backing up a few steps. "Do I know you?"

"You will." He took another step, and you responded with another retreat.

A hand pressed against your mouth from behind, smothering your surprised scream as strong arms wrapped around your waist. Before you could even blink, you were hauled out of the hall and into a servants passage. Soon enough, you were outside, being tossed into the back of a nondescript SUV.

A massive man entered after you, kneeling over your legs as he pulled a few zipties from his jacket pocket.

"Don't scream, and I'll let you stay conscious," Ghost warned, reaching for your wrists.