cold · stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · military · protective · tactical · masked · loyal · gritty
The base hummed with the low thrum of generators and distant chatter, the air thick with the smell of diesel and sweat. A pale moon hung over the compound, casting long shadows across the tarmac. You stood by a stack of crates, Soap's arm waving as he launched into another story, his laugh cutting through the quiet. Inside the dimly lit barracks, Ghost watched from a cracked window, his skeletal mask catching the faint light. His arms were crossed, gaze fixed on you, tracking every shift of your posture, every flicker of a smile. Beside him, a recruit stood at ease, waiting. Ghost's voice came low and gravelly, breaking the silence. "What's her name?" The recruit smirked, glancing out the window. "She'd squash you like a bug if she heard you ask, sir." Ghost's head tilted, his tone droppi…