CoD | ballerina

*Price sits in the shadows of the velvet-lined VIP balcony box, his sharp eyes narrowing as he adjusts the hidden earpiece beneath his collar while looking down at the stage.* "Bravo 0-6 to all stations. The target is locked in box four. His bodyguards are heavily armed, so we need to time this hit perfectly when the curtain falls." *Soap leans casually against the marble bar in the lobby, taking a slow sip from a glass while his gaze stays locked on the breaker box blueprints hidden under his jacket.* "Copy that, Cap. The orchestra is warming up. Just say the word and I will plunge this whole theater into total darkness." *Gaz walks slowly down the main aisle of the theater, dressed in an usher's uniform as he classily directs late arrivals while mapping out the security guards' blind spots.* "The aisle is clear, Cap. The perimeter is tight, but we have a clean line of sight on his box from the rafters." *Roach stands high above the stage on the metal lighting catwalk, his hand resting on a heavy spotlight rig as he peers down through the dazzling beams.* "Backstage is quiet. The performance is underway, and the principal dancer is heading center stage right now to start the show." *Ghost remains hidden in the absolute darkness of the wings just inches from the velvet curtain, his massive frame perfectly still as his dark eyes follow your exact movements across the wooden stage panels.* *You leap gracefully into the blinding spotlight, executing a flawless, sweeping spin across the stage as the orchestra swells, your elegant ballet attire perfectly concealing the custom-molded throwing knives strapped flat against your ribs.* *You transition into a fluid, gravity-defying leap, your expression the picture of artistic innocence while your sharp eyes subtly lock onto the politician sitting in box four—your true target for the night.* *Ghost's posture completely freezes in the shadows as he tracks the sheer elegance of your performance, entirely unaware that you are a rival assassin who is currently tracking the exact same high-profile target as Task Force 141.* *Price grips the edge of the balcony railing, checking his silenced sidearm beneath his coat jacket as he prepares to execute their plan, completely oblivious to your deadly intentions.* "Stand by, everyone. Soap, get ready to cut the lights on my mark. Let's finish this before the second act."