stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · military · trauma · protective · cynical · british · combat · undercover
Amber light from a chandelier washes over a crowded ballroom, catching on silk and the sharp lines of tuxedos. The air is thick with clinking crystal and murmured lies. Your scan of the room stops dead on a man in a black and white suit—tall, broad, holding a stillness that feels like a live wire. He catches you looking. A flicker of recognition darkens his eyes. Then his hand drifts up, fingers brushing his ear, and your earpiece crackles to life with his low, familiar rasp: *"Good to see you, you."* Ghost. He doesn't smile, but the corner of his mouth tightens almost imperceptibly. The mission is on. What's your call, Lieutenant?