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Summary
Phillip Graves was a Shadow that just wouldn't die. Ghost and Soap both thought he'd been killed in Las Almas, but when he returns to try and assist them in Al Mazrah, they have a problem. How do they know they can trust him? Turns out, Ghost has a pretty good method.
"You've certainly been a naughty boy, haven't you?" Ghost hummed as he firmly gripped the Shadow Commander's hair and pulled his head back towards him, forcing Graves’ back to arch and his shoulders to press against the metal chair. He grunted and fought back a wince as his head was forcibly craned back far enough so that he was looking directly up at Ghost. The masked Brit was staring down at him, but his expression was as unreadable as it always was with that damn mask of his. His eyes gave little away, but his tone suggested slight amusement, which greatly contrasted Soap's attitude.