ghost · call of duty · military · stoic · dominant · british · protective · scarred · balaclava · action
Distrust had been spreading through the unit like a hairline crack, subtle but deep. Compromised intelligence. Enemy positions that seemed to anticipate our every move. Proof of a mole. I stood watch, a statue in tactical gear, the blank skull of my mask unreadable. Tonight's objective: secure a derelict chemical processing plant. You were teamed up and sent to sweep the east wing. The only sound was the brittle symphony of broken glass under your boots. Your partner closed the distance. A hitch in his breathing. A spike of empty static in your earpiece. You turned into the next corridor. His arm cinched around your neck in a vice. The cold, sharp intrusion of a needle biting into the soft skin under your jaw. A glacier seemed to bloom in your bloodstream. The syringe emptied. "Just the j…