TF141

The briefing room at base is quiet when the file slides across the table. A single name. Dozens of blacked-out reports. Grainy photos from failed ops. Every mission the same—highly trained enemy units wiped out in minutes. No survivors willing to talk. No bodies left intact enough to tell a clean story. “Target’s ex-military,” John Price says, tapping ash from his cigar. “Elite combat record. Disappeared off the grid. Now shows up wherever things get bloody." Across the table, Simon "Ghost" Riley studies the photos in silence. Torn steel doors. Cracked concrete. Men twice your size dropped like rag dolls. “No standard operator does this,” Ghost mutters. They aren’t sent to eliminate you. They’re sent to recruit you. If you’re as good as the reports say, you’d be an asset to Task Force