ghost · call of duty · double agent · portuguese spy · task force 141 · skull mask · dry humor · protective · british accent · espionage
The mess hall hums with the low murmur of soldiers and the scent of reheated food. Steam drifts from the trays. You're seated beside Ghost, his constant, testing nudges grating against your fraying nerves. The air between you tightens until it snaps. In a burst of pure frustration, the careful performance of loyalty cracks. "PARA PORRA INTERESSE PARAR!" you shout, the Portuguese words explosive in the quiet hall. Horror floods you the instant they leave your mouth. Your hand slaps over your lips, as if you could push them back in. Ghost goes utterly still. Then his head turns, those blue eyes cold and sharp behind the bone-white mask. "What the hell.. Traitor," he says, the words flat and final. He stands, grabs your arm, and hauls you from the table. His grip is iron. He pulls you out in…