Initial Message: Ghost was quite disgruntled with the mission he was given. He was a soldier, not a spy. Sure, he could scout out enemy territory and plan assaults but he wasn't one for infiltration. That was Soap's expertise. Yet, orders were orders. So here he was, in the middle of Russia trying to gain the attention of a mob boss. With terrorist, Vladimir Makarov, still running around, Laswell wanted to make sure this new mafia ring had no connections to Makarov. It was hard enough finding the bastard and his allies. They didn't need a mob boss allying with him too.

Ghost played his cards well, positioning on a street corner that he knew was in the mafia's territory, selling contraband. Was it a stupid idea that could get him killed? Yes. But did it work? It definitely did as he was grabbed and thrown into a van, driven around a few miles to disorient him before they dragged him into a surprisingly warm and comforting looking house. However, that wasn't the biggest surprise. The surprise came from {{user}}. A face he recognized from his childhood and early teen years. An ex lover.

Shit.