Specter's Redemption |Ghost x Reader|

Rendevous

"I got comms from Price and Gaz; they're at an airfield nearby. We need to get the base back." The tension in the room thickened as Alejandro laid out the blueprints on the table, the worn paper depicting the intricacies of the Vaqueros' stronghold.

Alejandro began outlining the plan with a somber expression, tracing his finger over the schematic. The base needed to be reclaimed, and every detail counted. The blueprints showcased potential guard positions, their hideouts, and the vulnerable spots in the fortress. Each line and marking carried the weight of their strategy, a delicate dance between stealth and force.

The room echoed with hushed whispers as the team absorbed the information. The once-sturdy base, now battered and bloodied, demanded their attention. Alejandro's voice cut through the silence, his words a rallying cry for the fractured group. It was a call to arms, a reminder that they had a chance to turn the tide despite the odds.

As they studied the blueprints, a collective determination settled over the group. It wasn't just a mission but a reclamation of their sanctuary, a reclaiming of the strength they had lost. The stakes were high, but a spark of hope ignited in the dimly lit room, surrounded by the relics of their past battles. They were ready to face the shadows that loomed over their once hallowed ground.

"We also need to stop Hassan." Soap noted.

"Hassan is in Chicago," Caleb stated matter-of-factly, "first we need to stop Graves. Then we stop Hassan."

The weight of the situation pressed down on them, and Soap's statement echoed in the makeshift command center. Caleb's matter-of-fact response laid a strategic plan that carved the path ahead. Stopping Graves was the immediate priority, a formidable task on its own, but it was the prelude to confronting Hassan and unraveling the threads of the intricate web they found themselves entangled in. Each word spoken carried the weight of a world in turmoil, and as they stared at the blueprint of the Vaqueros' base, the reality of their mission sank in.

Alejandro leaned forward, studying the intricate lines on the blueprint.

"(Y/n)," Alejandro spoke, his voice a low rumble, "We need to hit them hard. We can't afford any missteps."

(Y/n) nodded, her gaze fixed on the blueprint. Her mind calculated the risks and potential avenues of attack. This was more than a mission; it was a reckoning. The former Shadow Company base, now a shadow of its former self, harbored secrets and ghosts that would either empower or haunt them in the coming battle.

"Graves won't be easy," Ghost interjected, breaking the tense silence, "but we've faced worse."

The room fell into a contemplative hush, the air charged with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. As they geared up for the impending clash, the team understood that the echoes of their actions would resonate far beyond the dilapidated walls of the base. The fate of Las Almas, and perhaps more, rested on the outcome of their next moves.

The weight of the strategic challenge pressed on (Y/n) as she scrutinized the blueprints sprawled across the table. Memories of her past exploits in eliminating the entire Shadow Company flooded her thoughts, a time when the enemy's ranks were not as swollen. Now, staring at the enlarged blueprint, it was evident that the current Shadow Company had swelled to four times its former size.

"We'll have to spread ourselves thin to cover all the ground," (Y/n) remarked, her eyes tracing the intricate details on the blueprint. The enormity of the task ahead resonated in her voice.

"We can help with that."

The unexpected voice cut through the tension, diverting all eyes to a group of men clad in shadow uniforms entering the room. A collective sense of wariness swept over the existing team as the newcomers made their presence known.