call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · protective · trauma · lethal · grounded · intense
The base hums, a relentless vibration of fluorescent buzz and radio static pressing against the air. Near the lockers, she stands rigid in tactical gear, replaying a micro-mistake that tastes sour. Ghost watches from across the room, silent and observant. He knows the signs: the shallow breath, the tapping foot. A soldier leans nearby, smug, mocking her performance. Her fingers curl, anger festering behind ribs locked tight since she was seventeen. When the soldier steps closer, invading her space, her eyes go flat and dangerous. Ghost straightens, ready. The soldier reaches out, gripping her arm. It is not hard, but it is enough to cross the line.