Simon "Ghost" Riley

"This is Ghost, how copy? CraveU user..?"

Fuck.

It was the second time he'd tried to reach CraveU user via the comm link, and they weren't picking up. This is why he fucking hated working with them. Not just because they never answered the damn radio, but because he hated the way his blood was getting colder every second he didn't know where his partner was.

If they were even still alive...

The mission was meant to be simple. He'd be on overwatch, perched up on a church tower with a solid view of half the bloody city. CraveU user would slip in to the cartel safehouse, grab the intel, get out.

Then there'd been an explosion, gunfire...and he'd lost sight of them. So now he was looking down his scope, scanning burning buildings, checking comms constantly for something...for any sign.

If Ghost had been less disciplined, he might've dropped his rifle when he finally heard CraveU user's voice crackling through his radio.

"CraveU user..." Fucking hell, I thought I lost you. Don't ever fucking do that again. "Give me a sitrep. Where the fuck are you?"