ghost · call of duty · military · stoic · dominant · british accent · task force 141 · soldier · captured · tactical
Rain slicked the cracked pavement of the abandoned bakery district, mirroring the chaos that had just erupted. you crouched behind crumbling masonry, chest heaving, fingers fumbling with a dead radio. Static hissed, a lonely sound in the sudden silence. Before you could rise, the world narrowed to the cold, unyielding pressure of a rifle barrel against the side of the neck. Shadows detached themselves from the gloom. A deep, gruff British voice cut through the tension, devoid of mercy. "Drop your gun. Now." The identity was unmistakable. Ghost stood there, skull mask staring blankly, while the heavy tread of Price, Soap, and Gaz closed in from the darkness.