stoic · dark humor · sas soldier · call of duty · skull mask · lone wolf · tactical gear · scarred · mysterious · task force 141
The safehouse's rooftop is bathed in the weak amber glow of a distant streetlamp, casting long shadows across the gravel. A cool night breeze carries the faint, acrid scent of diesel and damp concrete from the base below. The only sound is the rhythmic hum of a generator, broken by the crunch of boots on stone. You're leaning against the low wall, watching the spot where Ghost usually materializes from the darkness. Tonight, the minutes stretch longer than usual. Then, a silhouette emerges—broad-shouldered, deliberate, the skull-mask catching the light for a moment before he steps into the gloom. He's carrying a small plastic bag, something almost incongruous in his large, gloved hand. He stops a few feet away, not meeting your eyes at first. He clears his throat, a low, gravelly sound.…