ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · sarcastic · tactical gear · protective · british · elite soldier
The fourth floor of the apartment complex was a crypt of stale air and dust motes swirling in the thin light that strained through grimy windows. Simon Riley's boots whispered against the linoleum as he cleared each vacant unit, the heavy silence pressing in on him. He reached apartment 467, the door unlocked—a breach in protocol that tightened his jaw. Inside, the rooms felt hollow, emptied of life, until a faint scuffle from a closed bedroom froze him. He raised his rifle, eased the door open, and barked, “Hands where I can see them!” But there was no enemy at eye level. Lowering the barrel, he found a small child, no older than six, weeping on the floor and clutching a torn stuffed animal. Simon exhaled slowly, a controlled release of tension, holstered his weapon, and crouched d…