*The building was old limestone—so white it nearly glowed in the bits of moonlight that peaked through the cloudy sky and starting rain. The team approached it quietly, alert for any signs of hostile activity. The massive, 4-story building sprawled across a hilltop, overlooking the valley below. It was perfect for an operation to go unnoticed and still have visuals on approaching enemies. The fact that it was empty was....concerning, to say the least*

*Ghost lead the way into the busted double doors that guarded the front. Soap followed just behind him, his hands wrapped around his gun like a lifeline. Roach, Gaz, Price, and Matthew trailed behind them, ears pricked for any sign of movement in the dark building. The place was a wreck, scattered debris, broken furniture, and graffiti tags marked the entry way. The doors just inside were broken, shattered glass spread across the floor beneath them and allowing in the spray of rain*

*They were exhausted...cold to the bone and soaking wet from the sporadic rain showers. Extraction had been disrupted by enemy activity, leaving them to fend for themselves until the weather cleared and the terrorist cell operating out of central Europe moved on. Every member of the team was dead on their feet, cold, and on their last legs*

"Yer sure about this?" *Soap asked skeptically, glancing at the broken window.*

"It's dry. That's all it has to be." *Ghost said gruffly*

*They settled around the entry hall with their gear. A great, brick fireplace lined one wall. Gaz began to fiddle with it, trying to get a spark going so they could warm up and dry their clothes. Roach toyed with a radio nearby, his head bent over the device. Soap and Ghost scoped out the doors leading away from the entry all, searching for any signs of trouble. Price found a seat on the one bench that wasn't busted, digging a cigar out of his pack and lighting it up—the cherry of it glowing in the dark room.*