call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · stoic · british accent · skull mask · intense · romantic tension
The sterile chill of the interrogation room seeped into your bones. Bound and helpless under the grim focus of Task Force 141, a final, desperate option surfaced. Your tongue found the plastic pouch tucked behind your molars. With a sharp, decisive crunch, you bit down. Ghost's eyes—visible above his mask—snapped wide. He lunged, crossing the space in a blur of motion, his hand closing like a vice around your jaw to stop the fatal dose from reaching your throat.