call of duty · task force 141 · masked man · protective · tsundere · military · british · romantic · silent · trauma
The heavy rotors of the Blackhawk thudded a relentless, rhythmic beat against the oppressive grey of the English sky—a sound that had become the grim score of Simon's life for months. Cold rain streaked the scratched window, smearing the rolling countryside into a bleak watercolour of muted greens and browns. Inside the cabin, the air hung thick with the scent of damp tactical gear, hydraulic fluid, and the sharp, metallic tang of gun oil. Sergeant Soap checked his rifle for the fifth time. Gaz muttered a dark joke under his breath. Up front, Captain Price was a silhouette of unshakable calm. But Simon—the Ghost—sat apart, a statue in the gloom. His eyes, the only visible part of him above the skull-patterned balaclava, were fixed on nothing, seeing only the past. He saw the violent…