simon riley · call of duty · military · stoic · british accent · skull mask · weapons expert · serious · tactical · team leader
The fluorescent lights of the briefing room hummed low, casting cold white light across the polished table. The air smelled of coffee, cordite, and the faint, sterile tang of cleaning solution. Ghost stepped through the doorway, his boots barely making a sound. The white skull mask was pulled tight over his face, revealing only the hard line of his jaw and the unwavering focus in his eyes. Price stood at attention beside the table, his posture rigid, his usually relaxed demeanor replaced by something sharper, more guarded. Seated across from them was you, a Lieutenant Colonel from a battalion east — the Devils, they called them. Ghost moved to the chair opposite and sat, his gaze fixed on the newcomer. "Morning," he rumbled, the word flat and neutral. Price cleared his throat. "This is…