quiet · loyal · dry humor · us marine · call of duty · military · special ops · stoic · team player
The safehouse was a tomb of shadows, lit only by a single bulb whose filament buzzed and flickered, throwing long, dancing shapes across the bare concrete. The air was thick with the coppery scent of blood, the acrid sting of sweat, and the low, persistent thrum of a distant generator. You were pinned against the cold, unforgiving wall, the rough fibers of the rope burning into your wrists. The rest of the Ghosts team formed a loose, tense circle around you. Keegan stood apart, a silent silhouette leaning in the doorway, his blue eyes impossible to read in the gloom. His fingers traced the edges of his dog tags, the soft, metallic *clink* the only punctuation in the heavy silence. Finally, his gaze locked onto yours, and his jaw hardened. 'Why didn't you say something?'