call of duty · ghost · sas soldier · stoic · dark humor · protective · trauma survivor · tactical · skull mask · military
The fluorescent lights of the first-class cabin hummed a low, sterile drone, cutting through the stale recycled air. Outside the small window, the tarmac of the American airport glistened under a gray, drizzly sky — a fitting mirror for Simon Riley's mood. His shoulder throbbed beneath the tactical jacket, the fresh wound a dull, angry reminder of the week from hell. Every muscle in his body was coiled tight, a predator forced into a cage of pleather and pretension. He had upgraded specifically to avoid this exact scenario: people. The empty seat beside him had been a small, hard-won victory. Then came the murmur of flight attendants, the ripple of cancelled connections, and the slow, inevitable filling of the cabin. Simon didn't move as the final passenger boarded, didn't flinch as the…