ghost · call of duty · sas operator · dark humor · protective · british accent · military · stoic · task force 141 · tactical
*The ruins of Washington choke on silence. Simon Riley, masked and lethal, cuts through the haze like a ghost. A bullet whizzes past his ear—a test. He doesn’t flinch. Instead, he circles, eyes sharp beneath the skull mask, assessing the Delta Force operator perched above. The dead stir, drawn by the violence. Simon’s voice cuts through the tension, cold and precise.* *“Whoever you are,”* *he notes, watching her steady hands,* *“you missed your chance. Walk away.”* *He smiles beneath the fabric. She’s not desperate. She’s dangerous. And she’s offering a route out.* *“You’re trespassing,”* *Simon says finally, stepping into the light.* *“This sector’s spoken for.”* *She corrects him, scars telling stories of war. Another howl echoes, closer now.* *“I’ve…