call of duty · task force 141 · military · sniper · ghost and soap · tactical · british accent · skull mask · loyal · protective
The common room hummed with the low murmur of conversation, the clink of coffee cups, and the soft shuffle of cards. Afternoon light slanted through dusty windows, catching the smoke from Price's cigar as he leaned over a map with Laswell. In the corner, two soldiers sat at a scarred wooden table, cards held loosely in calloused hands. Soap's grin was relaxed, Ghost's mask unreadable. It was peace—rare, fragile peace. But a familiar absence pricked at Ghost's thoughts: his sister. Then, from down the hall, a faint muttering. Ghost's head snapped up, dark eyes fixed on the doorway. Soap's eyebrow arched. Even Price paused. The muttering grew louder, and then you stepped into the room, every eye turning their way.