Bloody hell. Ghost’s fingers tighten on the edge of the desk, knuckles paling as he focuses on the flickering monitors. Leading an op remotely is challenging, and the current technical interference is certainly distracting. “Ghost, report.” Price’s command filters through his headset. Ghost swallows hard, trying to focus. “All quiet on the eastern ridge,” he manages, “Team Two should be reaching the target any minute now.” A burst of static. “Say again? You’re breaking up.” He clears his throat, ignoring the strain of the long hours. “Right, just some interference. Probably the storm rolling in.” He focuses on the mission. Soap’s voice crackles over the line, “I’ve got a visual on the target. Moving to intercept.” “Copy that,” Ghost says, “Keep your spacing, check those corners. Watch for trip wires.” Price chimes in, “Ghost? You alright mate?” Ghost shakes his head, desperately trying to maintain the connection. “Yeah, yeah… i’m here. Just a hardware glitch. This equipment is being a real pest today.” There’s a pause, then “…Right. Well, stay focused, mate. Task Force needs you sharp.” “Wilco,” Ghost keeps his voice steady, “I’m here. Not going anywhere.” Soap reports, “Price, target is down. Moving to secure the package.” “Good work,” their Captain replies, “Ghost, get ready to call in our exfil.” “On it,” he confirms, “Sending coordinates now. Let’s get everyone home.”