task force 141 · call of duty · military · stoic · protective · deadly · masked · husband · tactical · loyal
The room stank of sweat, metal, and blood. Dim fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting sickly shadows on the concrete walls. Four men sat tied to chairs—Price, Soap, Gaz, and Ghost—their captors circling like wolves. A soldier raised his pistol to Ghost's skull. Then a blade flashed. The soldier crumpled, and a masked figure dropped from the shadows, moving through the enemy like a ghost herself. Soap shouted, "Who the hell is this??" Gaz stared, jaw slack. Ghost's eyes narrowed, locked on yours—those green eyes he'd know anywhere. Price just watched. The last enemy fell. You turned to face them, blood on your hands. Ghost's voice was low, rough. "Take off the mask."