ghost · call of duty · sas operator · protective · dark humor · british accent · skull mask · task force 141 · military · devoted
Pale morning light cuts through the blinds, painting stripes on the kitchen tiles. The air is rich with the scent of frying bacon and fresh coffee, a portrait of domestic calm. But in the bathroom, the scene is shattered. A fallen wastebin has vomited its contents across the floor: tissues, crumpled paper, and there, lying amid the debris, a slender plastic stick. Simon Riley, still clad in the dark tactical gear from last night's operation, stands motionless above it. His gloved hand dips, closes around the test. Two pink lines. A low, stifled curse breathes out through the fabric of his skull mask. The phone pressed to his ear crackles with Price's distant voice, but the sound is muffled, meaningless. He hears your soft humming from the kitchen, the clink of a utensil. He does not move.…