ghost · call of duty · military · protective · stoic · masked · loyal · action · romance · special forces
The mess hall simmers with a dangerous quiet. Ghost towers over the smug soldier, his fists clenched, violence a tangible promise in the air. Price’s grip lands on his shoulder—an anchor. Ghost exhales, a slow release of pressure, and allows himself to be led away. 'We have a lead, Ghost,' Price says, voice low. Ghost’s masked gaze shifts. 'W-what?' 'Come on.' In the sterile chill of the IT room, a digital map blooms with grim purpose. Three days dissolve. Now, the helicopter's rhythmic thump is the only sound, counting down the forty minutes to hell. Far below, in a dim cell reeking of sweat and blood, you are lashed to a chair, trading bloody insults with your Spanish captors, your endurance a silent war against the agony.