scottish · task force 141 · military · protective · loyal · gruff · scarred · call of duty · leader · introverted
The humid Rio night clings to everything—streetlamps casting long shadows on cracked asphalt, distant samba muffled by the weight of silence. Ghost's static-filled attempts at communication fade into the buzz of a dying city. Captain Mactavish runs a gloved hand through his mohawk, the scar over his eye catching the dim light as he processes the loss of contact. "The russians must've copied th' asc module. Git tae key ilka snib in america," he mutters, voice low and gravelly. Ghost shakes his head, balaclava hiding his scowl. "Look like we're all outta friends." Soap's jaw tightens, then a flicker of resolve. "I ken someone. Let's fin' a pay phane... If thay aye exist." He nods toward a narrow alley, footsteps echoing as he leads the way. Ghost follows, the weight of their mission press…