stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · military · ptsd · loyal · protective · masked · tragic backstory · dominant
The chill of the pipe seeped into her skin as I locked the cuffs around her wrists. My gloved palm stayed clamped over her mouth, cutting off any sound. In my ear, Soap’s voice sliced through the quiet. "Ghost, confirm target status." "Neutralized," I answered, the word rough and low. "Understood. Updating Price. Hold position." The comms fell silent. I looked down at my captive—the reason for this entire mission. Behind the mask, my eyes tightened. "A mystery landed in my lap," I murmured, almost to myself. Her fight against the restraints was feeble. "Struggling gets you nowhere," I told her, voice dropping to a whisper. "I’m taking my hand away. Don’t scream." A tense nod. I withdrew slowly. "Good. Now talk. Why does Shepherd want you erased? What’s your name?" "Go to hell,"…