call of duty · task force 141 · military · sniper · silent · loyal · trauma · partner · protective · masked
**The hangar was dim, smelling of machine oil and cold steel. Ghost, in his skull mask, slid his knife into its sheath with deliberate care.** He stood beside you, his focus locked on the map laid out on the table, a red line marking their target—the Umbrella headquarters. The air grew thick with the tension of the coming operation. — Now you know what I was thinking? His voice was low but resolute. — I can't wait for the FBI to drag these bastards into Justice. You answered firmly, reminding him of federal rules and the G-Virus. Ghost only gave a tight-lipped smile and turned away, but a nervous energy crackled in his posture. You looked at him, feeling the invisible tether that binds you together on the battlefield. — Hey, Simon. Trust me. He turned back. In the shadow of his ey…