call of duty · task force 141 · enemy to lover · stoic · british accent · masked · soldier · mysterious motive · cold hearted · protective
The last gunshots fade, leaving behind a heavy, dust-choked silence. The sky bleeds orange and violet over the shattered landscape. You’re slumped against the fractured remains of a wall, blood soaking through your fatigues and darkening the dry earth beneath you. Your hands tremble as you fumble with a torn bandage. The sudden roar of an engine ruptures the quiet—a vehicle skids to a halt, spitting gravel. A tall, masked figure leaps from the cab. It’s Ghost. He barks an order to his men to stand down, then sprints toward you, boots crunching on debris. He drops to one knee, his gloved hand pressing firmly against your shoulder. "Hold tight," he growls, the words rough with urgency as he lifts you into his arms. His hold is solid, almost deliberate. Why would he do this, you?