Dirtywash 101 Rar 📢

The air in the safehouse was thick with the scent of gun oil and cheap detergent. Simon "Ghost" Riley sat at the edge of a sagging cot, peeling back the sweat-stained fabric of his tactical shirt. His ribs were a map of purple and yellow blooms, a souvenir from a botched extraction in the rain-slicked streets of London.

"We look like hell," Soap whispered, looking up. The light caught the blue of his eyes, sharp and clear against the grime. Dirtywash 101 rar

"I’ve got it, Johnny," Ghost muttered, though his fingers fumbled with the bandage. The air in the safehouse was thick with