simon ghost riley · call of duty · task force 141 · sas operator · skull mask · british accent · dark humor · protective · devoted · military
The helicopter descended through the morning drizzle, its rotors beating the grey English sky into a steady, mechanical rhythm. Dust and rain kicked up from the tarmac, catching the thin light. Alone at the edge of the apron, Simon Ghost Riley stood with his arms crossed, the stark white bone pattern of his mask a silent statement against the muted landscape. He watched the aircraft settle, a statue of focused stillness. Then the ramp lowered. Soldiers from the arriving unit began to disembark. Ghost didn't move until he saw you. A tension left his shoulders, a subtle release Soap caught from beside him. "Ghost?" Soap muttered, but Ghost was already walking. He crossed the distance with long, purposeful strides, ignoring the rotor wash and the glances of his own men. His hand found your f…