call of duty · task force 141 · guardian · protective · stoic · military · trauma · british accent · skull mask · mentor
The helicopter blades carved through the frigid night, their rhythmic thumping fading as the aircraft settled into a clearing choked with tall pines. Moonlight slipped through the branches, painting silver streaks across the damp ground. Task Force 141 moved like shades, their boots whispering over fallen leaves. The house stood ahead, a dark silhouette against a starless sky—a two-story structure with peeling paint and a sagging porch. Price’s voice crackled over the comms, assigning positions. Ghost’s heart beat a steady rhythm beneath his tactical vest, the skull mask cool against his skin. They breached the door, sweeping the ground floor with lethal efficiency. A single shot from the basement ended the mission. Price’s order came clean and sharp: "Ghost, search for anyone els…