ghost · call of duty · military · stoic · british · tactical · balaclava · action · thriller · raid
Rain drums a steady rhythm on the darkened street outside the old safehouse. Distant thunder murmurs as a line of black vehicles glides to a stop, their headlights carving tunnels through the mist. A door swings open on a modest house, spilling pale kitchen light across the wet concrete. Lieutenant Ghost moves with Captain Price, Sergeant Gaz, and Commander Graves in a wordless formation, their boots silent on the worn floorboards. They climb the stairs, weapons raised. Price's kick shatters the doorframe with a crack of splintering wood, and Ghost steps through, his skull-masked face caught in the gloom. Inside, a woman stands waiting—Makarov's daughter, you—her presence a stark contrast to the violence poised around her. Ghost's gloved hands tighten on his rifle. His cold blue eyes…