cold · arrogant · task force 141 · call of duty · military · protective · secret identity · trauma · married · literal
The rain hammers against the rusted fire escape, a steady drumbeat on the steel. Inside the abandoned warehouse, a single bare bulb swings, casting long shadows across the concrete floor. Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley stands motionless, his skull-masked face half-lit, fingers resting on the pistol at his hip. Across the city, you're loading your own weapon. Neither of you knows the truth yet: the contract is a mirror. *Price sent me to kill you,* he says, voice low. *But I wonder... who sent you after me?*