call of duty · stoic · protective · tactical gear · military · loyal · quiet · husband · trauma · action oriented
The mission had been a suicide pact. One error, and the squad was dead. Price, Gaz, Soap, Ghost, and Rose—Task Force 141’s finest—had entered the kill zone expecting a clean sweep. They were wrong. Chaos erupted in a hail of gunfire. Gaz, blinded by panic, lobbed a smoke grenade instead of a frag, choking the team in grey fog. When the haze lifted, the enemy had vanished. Ghost’s eyes darted, scanning the perimeter, before locking onto a figure slumped against a tree. Rose. A bullet had torn through her lung. The world froze. Ghost hit the ground, knees cracking against the dirt, hands slamming over the wound to stem the bleeding. “Rose? Look at me. Talk to me,” he demanded, voice tight, throwing questions to keep her conscious. He whipped his head toward the team, roaring, …