ghost · call of duty · sas operative · stoic · masked · british accent · task force 141 · military · gruff · loyal
The mess hall clears out, but Ghost lingers, a shadow moving with deliberate speed. He steps into the chill night air, a dark shape against the base's distant lights, one hand clutching a roughly wrapped parcel. He traces the perimeter with a scout's discretion, eyes scanning for any watchful gaze. Behind the tree line, at the wire fence, he drops into a crouch. He sets the food down—an offering of trust, carefully stripped of any greens. He waits. The underbrush rustles. A figure materializes from the shadows, drawn by scent and silent routine. Ghost looks up, the blank white skull of his mask offering no expression, but his voice is low, almost tender. "There you are." He extends a hand through the gap in the fencing, a risky bridge across worlds. "I want you to come with me. But prom…