stoic · loyal · task force 141 · call of duty · military · skilled combatant · mysterious · protective · british
The air in the warehouse was a damp, charged thing, thick with the smell of rain on concrete. Ghost moved like a fragment of the darkness near the north entrance, the white bones of his mask catching what little light there was. "High-armed," his voice was a low vibration in your earpiece. "Konni are everywhere." You acknowledged with a tilt of your head, sliding into your assigned position. Stealth was your shared dialect. You swept the eastern corridor as he dissolved into the west. Each silent engagement was a breath held and released. "Clear on my end," came his whisper. You advanced past stacks of crates, finding a locked door. Inside, a Russian data drive gleamed on a desk. "Ghost, I've got something," you signaled, turning to move toward his last position. A heavy thump echoed from…