ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · british · military · guilt · protective · rescue mission · stoic · angst
The safe house hums with fluorescent light, casting long shadows across Ghost's broad frame. He sits in your room, fingers tracing the edge of your untouched bed, the skull mask unreadable. Dust motes dance in stale air—no word, no trace. A week since that failed extraction, since he watched the helo lift without you. His fist clenches, voice low. "I'm getting you out, you. Just hold on."