The next day after John and the team gave their report, they got a call from the General asking them to go the the base ASAP, after a few hours they all arrived and was now inside the brig.
The low hum of the air conditioning echoed through the debriefing room, sterile and quiet save for the heavy boots of John and his team echoing on the tiled floor. The five men entered without ceremony, eyes steeled, steps in sync — veterans bound by blood and battlefield. General Marcus Bennett stood by the window, hands clasped behind his back, the morning sun casting a harsh silhouette across his uniform.
He turned as they entered.
"Glad you came," Bennett said, his voice gravelly. "We've got unfinished business."
John gave a curt nod, standing in front of the others — Price, Ghost, Soap, and Nikolai — all dressed in civilian gear, though no less ready for war.
"What's this about, General?" Price asked, arms crossed. His tone wasn't hostile, but there was no warmth either. None of them expected to be called back so soon.
Bennett gestured to the seats. "Sit down. This won't take long."
They didn't sit.
"Suit yourselves," he muttered, sighing as he moved to the center of the room. "First off — the deal is done. You're free to go. Walk out of this base, start over, live however the hell you want."
The room was still for a moment.
"Catch?" Ghost asked, voice low and suspicious.
Bennett chuckled under his breath. "No catch. You've earned it. Officially, your squad is dissolved, your records sealed. You're ghosts now — and not just him." He nodded toward Ghost with a smirk.
John's eyes narrowed. "And my people?"
"Protected," the general replied. "By order of the state. Your guardian, Jennifer Lewis. Your childhood friend Andrea. Your company, Wayne Industries. Untouchable. No agency, no rival state, no backdoor military hit squad is coming after them. I made sure of it."
John's lips curled into a small smile. "Good."
Then he added, "I still have four favors left, by the way."
The air shifted. Price blinked. Soap furrowed his brow.
"Wait, what?" Soap muttered. "I thought... that immunity thing, that was the favor?"
John shrugged casually. "That was a given. I have six in total. Used two last for immunity. Three three from the last mission. Still got four left."
"You've got four favors owed by the government?" Price asked, incredulous.
John simply nodded, hands in his pockets.
"Bloody hell," Ghost muttered behind his mask.
Nikolai whistled lowly. "Remind me not to play poker with this guy."
Bennett groaned. "Of course, he'd bring this up."
John gave him a side glance. "It's relevant."
Price turned toward the general. "What'd he do to get the government this deep in his pocket?"
Bennett rubbed his temples before answering. "Nothing short of rewriting our damn playbook." He gestured toward John. "That interactive holographic table in the brig? The real-time data sharing we've been using? All him. Stuff that won't hit civilian labs for another thirty years."
John stayed silent, eyes trained on the general.
"His company," Bennett continued, "revolutionized tech without anyone realizing. You remember when cell phones used buttons? Touchscreens were science fiction. Guess who dropped the design blueprints anonymously to jumpstart it?"
Soap blinked. "Wait, that was you?"
John gave a small, knowing smirk.
"And the EMP?" Ghost asked, arms folded.
Bennett pointed at John again. "The bastard sold us EMP bombs three years ago that were only a theory at the time. No prototype. He gave us a finished, field-tested weapon... and then billed us for it."
"I gave you more than a weapon," John interjected calmly. "I gave you an edge."
Bennett scoffed. "You almost bankrupted our tech budget."
John grinned. "It's just business. You bought something priceless. Can't put a budget cap on that."
The team chuckled, but it died quickly as the general's expression turned grim.
"Now, to the reason I called you here," he said, voice growing colder. "Forget the tech. Forget the favors. This is bigger."
They went quiet, eyes focused.
Bennett took a breath. "After what you pulled off in the East… you're on the radar. High up. The kind of attention that doesn't let go."
"They want to keep us on a leash," Price said flatly.
"More like in a cage," Ghost added.
Bennett nodded. "They're calling you 'national assets' now. Political jargon for 'expendable weapons.' But… there's an out."
Soap raised a brow. "We're listening."
"Five more deployments," the general said. "Five missions. Then you're free. Completely. Wiped clean."
Price narrowed his eyes. "Official?"
"Presidential order," Bennett confirmed. "This comes from the top. You do five, and then you vanish, with everything owed paid in full."
The room went quiet again. Then Ghost finally muttered, "Five missions. No more."
Bennett nodded. "No more."
John tilted his head. "That's another fifteen favors, then."
The general squinted at him. "What?"
John pointed at the others. "Three favors each mission. Five missions. That's fifteen. Split it — three each for me and the four of them."
Bennett barked a laugh. "Hell no. You get five total. They get one each for the whole thing."
"Stingy," John muttered, shaking his head.
"You're lucky I'm agreeing to that much," Bennett growled. "Besides, you're not exactly poor."
John didn't answer, but his grin said it all.
Price sighed. "Alright. What are these five suicide runs?"
Bennett's eyes hardened. He walked to the steel table beside him and placed five black folders on top of it. The air in the room turned cold.
He gestured. "These contain your targets. You eliminate them. No survivors. No traces. No ties to the U.S. If anyone finds out who did it, we all burn."
Nikolai stepped forward and picked one up. He opened it, flipped through the first few pages, and gave a low whistle. "This one's not a person. It's a network."
Soap grabbed another. "These aren't hits. They're purges."
John walked forward and picked up the last file. His eyes skimmed the first page — black ops facilities, rogue AI research, illegal augment labs hidden in third-world territories.
He closed the file and looked up. "You want us to erase ghosts."
Bennett nodded. "Exactly. The kind of projects that don't exist on any books. The kind of people who shouldn't exist at all. You're not soldiers on these missions. You're phantoms."
"Five times," Ghost said quietly. "Then we disappear?"
Bennett looked each of them in the eye. "That's the deal. I give you my word. Five clean kills, in and out. After that — no more leash, no more cage."
Price exchanged glances with the team.
Soap cracked his knuckles. "When do we start?"
John stepped back, file in hand. "We start when I say we're ready."
Price smiled faintly. "Still calling the shots, huh?"
"No," he said. "We all are."
The general nodded, stepping away. "You've got a week. Then the first op begins."
As the team walked out, files in hand and minds already gearing for war, Bennett stood alone in the room. He watched the door close behind them and exhaled deeply.
"God help whoever's on those lists."