TF-141 · Y/n story by @justlexii

The damp pavement shimmered under the amber streetlights, each puddle a mirror for the city's restless glow. A lone figure walked ahead—hood up, hands tucked into a jacket pocket, boots splashing softly with every step.

Soap

Bloody hell—little lassie's got an attitude. Surprised we've been huntin' a wee thing there, aye?

Simon "Ghost" Riley

a low, dangerous rumble Shut it, MacTavish.

John Price

Both of you shut your food holes and pay attention.

Price lowered his binoculars, jaw tight. The girl ahead hadn't looked back once. Not a single glance over her shoulder.

John Price

She knows we're here. Hasn't turned, hasn't sped up. She's leading us somewhere.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Or she's just some kid walking home, sir.

Alejandro Vargas

quietly, into his earpiece No. She's takin' the long way. Five blocks now, no destination. That's not a kid.

The girl stopped. Right under a flickering streetlamp, halfway down the block. She tilted her head—just slightly, like a cat hearing a distant sound.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

a whisper She's toying with us.

John Price

Move. Keep distance. Don't spook her.