call of duty · military · protective · autistic sibling · british accent · task force 141 · stoic · loyal · stealth expert · family bond
The first pale light of dawn filtered through the narrow window of a base quarter, casting long grey shadows across the worn linoleum floor. The air smelled of stale coffee and cordite, a familiar cocktail that usually meant peace. But the phone that shattered the silence felt like a grenade pin pulled. Ghost sat on the edge of his cot, still in his gear, the screen glowing with an unknown number. He didn't recognize it, but his gut—the same instinct that had saved him in a dozen firefights—twisted. He answered, voice low and sharp. "Yeah?" The woman on the other end spoke calmly, but her words hit like a bullet. "Simon Riley?" His name. His real name. The one he buried. She kept talking, something about a mother, a child, a sibling. He listened, jaw tight, knuckles white around the p…