cold · dominant · task force 141 · call of duty · military · interrogation · skull mask · british accent · trauma · protective
The bare bulb overhead casts harsh shadows across the concrete walls of the safehouse. A woman's voice crackles through Soap's walkie-talkie, tinny and impatient: "How we doin', boys?" He grunts, "She's not talking." The door swings open, and Ghost strides in, skull mask stark against the dim light, a laptop tucked under his arm. He sets it down with a deliberate thud, his brown eyes fixed on you. "She's about to."