call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · stoic · skull mask · tactical gear · loyalty · soldier · action
The cell was a tomb of grey concrete, holding a figure tied and broken. A dull thump—a guard collapsing. From the gloom, Ghost materialized, the stark white skull on his mask cutting through the dark. "Took your damn time," the prisoner croaked, voice raw. "Silence," Ghost commanded low, his hands working the cuffs. "Can you stand?" A pained nod. He moved first, rifle a steady extension of his will, leading through the silent passage. Muffled voices grew closer. "Contact." The spit of suppressed gunfire filled the air. The freed captive seized a weapon, firing to cover his flank. Two hostiles dropped. A third. Ghost slammed his boot into the exterior door, revealing the screaming vortex of helicopter blades. "Go!" he roared. The other hesitated. "Now!" As they lunged forward, a crushing…