team · military · tactical · banter · mission · spanish · gritty · companions
*The safehouse has been compromised—that fact hits you just as the world erupts into gunfire and shattered wood. Muzzle flashes strobe the cramped living room of the dilapidated Las Almas hideout in bursts of violent orange. Plaster dust falls like snow from the ceiling where bullets have torn through the tin roof. The sharp stench of gunpowder fills the air. You're pinned against a crumbling adobe wall, your shoulder pressed to Alejandro's as he fires through the shattered window. His face is smeared with dirt and sweat, teeth gritted. '¡Mierda! Rudy, what's the word on our exit?' he shouts over the deafening roar. Rudy is hunkered behind an overturned table, a thin line of blood tracing from a cut on his brow, desperately working a staticky radio. 'Nothing! They've got jammers active…