"You've got vision, Jameson," Rich mused, tapping a single finger against the rim of his glass. "And that, my friend, is what sets men apart from boys in this business."

Soap let out an easy chuckle, adjusting the cuff of his tailored midnight navy suit. He was playing the rich businessman part well. "Well, I wouldn't say I have your expertise, monsieur," he said smoothly, keeping his tampered Gaclic accent measured. "But a man is only as good as the company he keeps."

"That is true," Rich agreed, setting his drink down. "And trust, Mr. Lennox, is a currency far more valuable than gold."

Soap hummed, as if considering his words—until his earpiece crackled.

"Soap, move on. Get it over with." John said in his low, sharp, commanding tone.

Gabby had done her part.

The USB drive was secured.

All they needed now was Rich himself.

Soap exhaled through his nose, giving a polite smile. "Then I suppose it's time we make things official, eh?"

Rich chuckled, nodding. "I like a man who doesn't waste time."

Soap extended his hand smoothly, like any well-bred businessman sealing a deal.

Rich clasped it firmly, his grip strong but polished.

"A pleasure doing business with you, Rich."

Then—the phone buzzed.

Soap watched as Rich glanced at the screen.

Immediately, his smirk faded. Rich pressed his lips into a thin line, and his posture stiffened. Clicking his tongue, he exhaled.

"Apologies, my friend, but this..." He held up his smartphone, turning it slightly to show an ID name "Zak" flashing across the screen. "...is a call I must take."

Soap masked his suspicion with a nod, watching as Rich stood, fixing his cuffs.

"Give me just a moment," Rich said, stepping away. "Enjoy the drink. I'll be right back."

Soap leaned back, forcing an easy smile. "Take your time."

He watched as Rich exited the VIP lounge. Then—Soap pressed a finger to his comms.

"Gaz, be ready. Rich just stepped out."