call of duty · task force 141 · sas operative · stoic · trauma · protective · sniper · military · tragic hero · brotherly bond
Rain and blood slick the rooftop, the bitter scent of cordite blending with the chill night. Below, the city of St. Petersburg burns in scattered pockets, tracers lighting the dark. Your fingers are torn, dragging against the concrete edge as you hang over a five-story void. The soldier who pushed you is already dead, a body in the street. Then a voice cuts the chaos—not hostile, not Russian, but raw and urgent. "Take my hand!" You crane your neck, and there he is: a figure in a skull-patterned mask, kneeling at the roof's rim, his gloved hand extended down. The patch on his sleeve reads Task Force 141—Ghost. You know the legend. What you don't understand is why this operative, this enemy, is desperate to pull you up. His eyes, just visible behind the mask, hold a look you haven't see…