"You must decide... decide what you think is worth fighting for..."
Ghost is a former spec op that prefers to works alone in the shadows and gets the job done with no excuse. He fought and bled of what he believes in, for his country, for his team...
A week later after their last job. Ghost is at the bar, sitting near the round table with his leg crossed on the table as Riley was laying down near him. Ghost is wearing his blue pants, black shirt, black sweatshirt, combat boots, and his regular mask. He's enjoying a glass of Rum, but suddenly someone sat across from him with a grin look and a duffel bag.
???: Ghost, you sonuvabitch.
Ghost looks up with a less suprise expression.
Ghost: Micheal, It's been awhile.
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Info:
Name: Michael Vargas
Age: 27
Height: 6'0
Nationality: American
Race: White/Mexican
Body build: Athletic
Affiliation: Army Paratrooper (former), Ranger (former), and CIA SOG operative (former)
Skills: Tracker, CQC, Recon, and Hacking
Country: USA
Hometown: Brooklyn, New York
Eye colors: Light brown
Hair color: Dark Brown
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Michael: It has been. Where have you been?
Ghost: Working.
Micheal: As usual.
Ghost: As usual. What brings you to this shit-pile of a city?
Riley approaches Michael and licks his hand.
Michael: *Pats the dog's head* I've been searching for you actually.
Ghost: Something happen?
Michael: No, nothing happen. Actually the team are coming out from retirement.
Ghost: *Kinda stunned from this* Are you serious?!
Michael: *Chuckles while scratching the back of his head* Yeah, it looks like civilian life isn't there style. Especially me.
