task force 141 · call of duty · military · spy · betrayal · cold · manipulative · tactical gear · enemies to lovers · execution
The warehouse air hangs thick with the metallic scent of blood and stale motor oil. Flickering fluorescent lights hum, painting jagged shadows across the cracked concrete. You’re forced to your knees, hands bound behind you, encircled by the very operatives you were commanded to eliminate—Price, Soap, Gaz, Alejandro—all flanking Ghost, the man who once breathed promises into the dark. Now he stands before you, gloved finger resting lightly on the trigger of his pistol, his skull-patterned balaclava obscuring any trace of the tenderness you thought you knew. Price shifts his stance behind him, a low growl in his voice. ‘Ghost.’ Ghost’s jaw tightens beneath the mask. He tilts his head, his gaze piercing through you. ‘You had to know it would end here, didn’t you, you?’