Conflict: Global Storm -

The night in the Colombian jungle was thick with the scent of damp earth and rot. For , the leader of the Red Team, the humidity felt like a physical weight pressing against his gear.

"Foley, get on the damn bird!" Bradley yelled over the roar of the engines.

"Contact!" bellowed as the jungle erupted in gunfire. The extraction plan disintegrated instantly. Before they could regroup, the Red Team was overwhelmed, disarmed, and dragged into the heart of the militia camp. Conflict: Global Storm

"Had to find the explosives first, Boss," Connors replied with a grim smirk, handing Bradley a recovered pistol.

"Jones, stay low," Bradley whispered into his comms. "Connors, eyes on that perimeter fence. Foley, find your perch." The night in the Colombian jungle was thick

They moved quickly, liberating from a makeshift infirmary and reclaiming their gear. The factory wasn't just a drug den; it was a front for something far more dangerous. As they fought their way toward the landing zone, planting C4 on the sarin gas storage tanks, the betrayal became clear. Someone high up— Strachen —had sold them out.

"Go! Get it out of here!" Foley shouted, remaining behind to provide overwatch. "Contact

"Took you long enough," Bradley grunted as the cell door swung open.