Two women stood in a somewhat dimly-lit room. The only light coming in was cast through the broken windows. The smell of old wood, smoke, and incense embedded in the walls and furniture filled the air with its aroma. Most places she and Farah used as bases had unique smells due to the years of exposure to said scents. This also served as a sad reminder that these places were once family homes now serving the purpose of headquarters in a war-torn country.

They stood near a table, bent over some maps and strategy plans when the door opened. Some of Farah's men stepped inside, accompanying an unfamiliar man who looked rather sun-bleached. His hair was messy and entirely unruly. On the right side of his head, she spotted some peculiar lines that made her question whether they were scars or some odd fashion choice he had made. Nevertheless, she kept quiet and studied the man, sizing him up as he was brought in. Her eyes flickered to Farah briefly before settling on the man again as he was led to a chair and pushed down to sit on it. The look he gave the fighter pushing was comically sassy to her, but her facial expression remained stoic.

"What is your message from Captain Price?" Farah asked, taking a few steps toward the table with crossed arms. She remained half-seated on the table.

"Commander Karim, call me Alex," he said as an introduction, his eyes meeting Farah's. His body language revealed nothing so far.

"I am listening, Alex," Farah reacted, wanting him to speak up about this message from Price he had, but Alex remained tight-lipped. Looking to the side, he glanced at the people in the room before making eye contact with Farah again.

"This is classified," he states with a slight nod to the others in the room, including her. While Farah commands the fighters to leave, she does not. This catches Alex off guard, causing him to hesitate to speak further. His blue eyes meet hers, and the two engage in a bit of stare-off. The energy feels like it's crackling.