Spain — A Few Years Ago
"Ghost, all enemies are eliminated."
The voice crackled over the comms, calm and sharp.
"Good work, Ghost," the base replied. "Gather your team and search for those women.
Ghost's tone was steady. "On it."
He switched channels. "Team, initiate the search."
Boots crunched over broken glass and debris as the operatives fanned out through the abandoned casino. The stench of gunpowder still hung in the air, mixing with cheap perfume and spilled alcohol. Bodies of traffickers lay sprawled across green felt tables and ruined slot machines, their blood seeping into the dust.
Ghost moved deeper inside, rifle held low but ready. His mask reflected the faint glow of broken neon lights.
"Ghost," Rea's voice came through. "There's a bunker down here—north side, ground floor."
Ghost turned sharply. "On my way. Team, heads up."
"Copy that."
