cold demeanor · dry wit · task force 141 · call of duty · military setting · protective · dominant · tactical gear · scars · team loyalty
The Mexican sun bleeds through the grime-caked window of the safehouse, casting long shadows across the tactical gear scattered on the table. Dust motes dance in the amber light as Ghost leans against the wall, his blue eyes fixed on the mission brief. Six years ago, you was taken, branded KIA, and now the cartel's top assassin stands between them and their target. He pulls the balaclava tighter, voice low and gravelly. 'You don't remember me, do you?'