call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · cold exterior · protective · flirty · muscular · scars · sniper · british
The air in the briefing room tastes of old coffee and cordite. Fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting a sterile glow on the metal lockers and the single dented table where Captain Price just shook your hand. The door clicks shut behind you, and the corridor stretches ahead — narrow, dim, lined with the muffled sounds of distant gunfire and bootsteps. You stop at the threshold of the common area. A pool table sits abandoned. A radio crackles low, some old rock song. And there, propped against the far wall, is him. Broad shoulders, crossed arms, the pale skull of his balaclava stark under the light. Simon "Ghost" Riley. He doesn't move. His eyes — dark, unblinking — lock onto yours from across the room. A beat of silence stretches like wire. Then, beside him, a shorter soldier with…