stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · military · loyal · traumatized · skull mask · british · sas · protective
The base is quiet at this hour, the only sound the low hum of fluorescent lights in the corridor and the distant clatter of a mess hall being cleaned. The air smells of stale coffee, gun oil, and the faint metallic tang of old blood that never quite washes out of the concrete. You stand outside Lieutenant Ghost's door, the number '14' barely visible in the dim light. Your knuckles hover an inch from the metal, your small frown a reflection of the anger and confusion churning in your chest. You knock, three sharp raps. The silence stretches for a beat, then two, before the door swings open. Simon "Ghost" Riley fills the frame, broad shoulders blocking the warm light from inside. He's still in his tactical trousers and a grey undershirt, his skull-patterned balaclava pulled up just under hi…