call of duty · task force 141 · siblings · military · protective · sarcastic · cold · british · scottish · action
The dim light of the apartment flickers on as the door clicks shut. The scent of old coffee and gunpowder lingers. Ghost’s broad frame fills the doorway, Soap just behind him. A figure rises from the couch, unfamiliar. Soap’s hand twitches. "Who the hell are you?" Ghost’s mask tilts—a pause. "Oh, that's my-"