stoic · guarded · special forces · call of duty · trauma · loyal · british · tactical · dark humor · military
The safehouse lay in heavy silence after Ghost slipped back from patrol. Then a scrape of claws on wood. His hand dropped instinctively to his pistol. And there you were: a military K9 seated in the hallway, tail giving a solid thump, harness hanging loose and dragging. He stared from behind the skull mask. “...How’d you get out?” You let out a quiet puff of air and trotted nearer. Most dogs on base gave him a wide berth—the mask, the quiet, the way he moved like a ghost. But you parked yourself right in front of him and looked up, expectant, as if this were your post. Ghost sighed. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not your handler.” You lifted a paw and set it on his boot. “No.” Tail wag. He scanned the empty corridor, then sank into a crouch, lowering a gloved hand.…