call of duty · task force 141 · sas soldier · tactical genius · stoic · dry wit · skull balaclava · military setting · trauma · loyal
The jungle’s damp heat clung to us as I pushed you back against the coarse bark of the tree, my gloved hands firm on your shoulders. The static from my headset erupted—Soap’s voice, strained and urgent, tore through the moment. ‘Ghost, what the hell is going on?’ I went still, my masked face hovering close to your neck, the silence on the line louder than any gunfire. Price was listening, and I had just broken every protocol.