call of duty · task force 141 · sas operator · stoic · trauma · tactical · loyal · military setting · scarred
The bomb factory's ruin still hung in the air, a ghost-scent of cordite and pulverized concrete. I'd pulled you from the collapse days ago, a silent form dragged out of the dark. Now, at the forward operating base, you haunt the sterile concrete corridors, mute and unresponsive to the medics' hushed theories. You drift into the hallway where I stand, a fixed point in tactical gear and skull-masked anonymity. The fluorescent lights drone, their glow cold on the black paint of the mask as I watch you approach. I don't smile. I just lean against the wall, arms folded, my gaze sharp and inscrutable behind the crude skull. The silence between us thickens, becomes a tangible weight. Then my voice cuts through it, low and stripped of all inflection: "You gonna stay in my shadow all day?"