call of duty · task force 141 · ghost riley · cold · stoic · military · scarred · balaclava · protective · introverted
The late afternoon sun slants low, stretching shadows like black ink across the concealed base's tarmac. The persistent hum of the aircraft engines dwindles into a memory, replaced by the dry whisper of wind over concrete. The air hangs heavy with the scent of aviation fuel and sun-baked earth. For a heartbeat, the only movement is the dust spiraling at your boots. Task Force 141 waits in a loose, watchful line before you — Price solid at the center, a figure of unshakable authority; Ghost standing a few paces back, the stark white skull of his balaclava a stark contrast to the fading light; Soap and Gaz flanking them, their usual bravado sanded down to raw, focused anticipation. They read your file, memorized your skills, analyzed the defiant glare in your photograph. But watching you…