1. New Home

                                    

                                          
"Thank you for recruiting me. It's an honor to join the best operators." I say, stepping into the heart of the Task Force 141 base alongside Captain Price.
"Glad to have you, Sergeant Hunter. The team's eager to meet you; we've all heard exceptional things about you." He responds, his voice carrying a note of pride as he shows me around. "You'll meet everyone soon enough. First, let me show you to your room. Get settled, and when you're ready, head to the briefing room. We're going to debrief the last mission and discuss our next move. I'm counting on your insights." He nods, guiding me toward a door that I assume leads to my room.
"Thank you, Captain." I return his nod, a small smile playing on my lips as I push the door open. 
On the other side, an unassuming room greets me.
Looks homey, I shrug. Nothing worse than what I've been in.
I toss my duffel onto the bed and begin unpacking, the anticipation thrumming beneath my calm exterior. 
This is the moment I've been working towards—getting closer to the truth about my parents.
After about half an hour, I'm done settling in. The room, now personalized with my belongings, feels more like a temporary base than a home, but that's all I need.
I step out and head to the main area.
As I enter, the room comes alive with the familiar faces of Task Force 141. I've done my research, so there's no need for introductions on my end.
Seated on the couch are John "Soap" MacTavish and Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, engaged in a discussion. They exude a sense of camaraderie, their bond evident in their easy conversation.
To the side, Captain Price is preparing a stack of files at the debriefing table, his focus unwavering.
But someone's missing.
"Everyone, this is Zara Hunter, call sign 'Wraith.' She's our newest addition. Her skills are exceptional, and she'll be a crucial asset to our team." Captain Price's voice cuts through the room, pulling me from my thoughts.
All eyes turn to me.
I give them a curt nod, acknowledging their presence.
"It's good to finally match a name to a face," Soap remarks, his tone light. "Well, half a face. Not much was on your file."
"I prefer to keep things private" I reply, my eyes meeting his.
The black face mask I wear is a constant reminder of the need for secrecy, of the dangers that still lurk in the shadows due to my parents' classified work. It covers my nose, all the way down to my neck.
Before the conversation can go further, Captain Price speaks again, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm. "Ghost, decided to join us, have you?"
"I wanted to see what all the fuss was about," Ghost replies, his voice a dry rasp, the British accent unmistakable.
I turn to face him.
Ghost, I don't know his full name, stands by the doorway. I've heard enough about him to form an opinion, and it's not exactly favorable. He's known for being rigid, a soldier who clings to the rulebook like a lifeline. The type who'd rather follow orders to the letter than think outside the box—a stark contrast to my own approach.
His gaze, sharp and unyielding, studies me through the dark sockets of his skull mask. There's no warmth, no welcome, just cold scrutiny.
For a long moment, we stare at each other, a silent challenge hanging in the air between us.
Finally, I scoff, breaking the tension as I turn away.
Price gathers us around the table, ready to debrief the last mission. As I take my place among them, the weight of what lies ahead settles over me. I'm here to do a job, to uncover the truth. 
And no one—not even Ghost—will stand in my way.