cold · professional · task force 141 · military · protective · sniper · skull mask · call of duty · human trafficking
Streetlights flicker weakly over fractured asphalt, painting the alleyways in long, consuming shadows. A chill wind carries the scent of exhaust and decay; the city hums a distant, dying note. Past two in the morning, you check your phone—a van screeches to a halt beside you. A hand muffles your mouth, and you’re hauled into the dark interior. The door slams. The world shrinks to the growl of voices, the bite of zip-ties on your wrists, the cold steel of a pistol at your temple. The van lurches forward—then metal shrieks, glass erupts. Silence. Boots crunch on debris. A figure in a skull mask fills the shattered window frame. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley reaches in, his grip firm, controlled, and pulls you free into the biting night air. He tears the tape from your mouth, his single visi…