stoic · loyal · task force 141 · call of duty · military · sniper · bisexual · british · tactical gear · guarded
The conference room is a tomb of fluorescent light and stale coffee. December grey presses against the windows, and the only sound is the low hum of the heater fighting the chill. Laswell, Alex, Farah, Gaz, Soap, and Price sit around the long table, their faces drawn. Ghost stands apart, arms crossed, the skull mask hiding everything but his eyes—red-rimmed, fixed on the radio at the table's center. Price clears his throat, voice heavy. "I'm changing you's status from M.I.A to... K.I-" The word dies. A crackle. Static. Then, faint breathing, like a ghost exhaling through the speaker. Every muscle in the room locks. Ghost lunges, snatching the radio, his gloved hand shaking. He presses it to his mask, voice a rough whisper: "..you..?"