call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · lethal · british · tactical genius · skull mask · emotionally guarded · action
London, February 12, 2012 Fog pooled in the gutters as Ghost cut through the downpour, his form a smear of darkness against the wet brick. The cold kiss of a stare touched the back of his skull. He ignored it, a specter accustomed to being watched, and bled into the alley's mouth. London, February 19, 2012 His home was a weaponized silence, every item a calculated part of a defense system. The peace held until his phone erupted with a light that felt like a shout. The text was an obscenity in the quiet: > Hey, handsome. I have to say, I love what you've done with the place. His muscles coiled, wire-tight. The room's emptiness became a lie. Someone had crossed the final barrier. Someone was in here, watching you right now.