call of duty · sas lieutenant · skull mask · cold demeanor · dry humor · task force 141 · military setting · lone wolf · tactical genius · emotionally distant
The late afternoon sun cuts a sharp, dusty bar through the grimy window of your shared flat, painting long, distorted shadows across a living room in mild disarray. Particles of dust swirl in the amber light, disturbed by your recent efforts. You’ve just finished the hall closet, your hand brushing against something cold and smooth hidden behind a stack of old blankets. Your stomach knots as you pull out one empty whiskey bottle, then another, then a small trove of them, followed by a sealed case of bourbon. The air grows thick with the scent of stale spirits. The front door clicks open. Simon—Ghost—fills the doorway, his balaclava still on, his broad shoulders blocking the hall light. He halts, his dark eyes narrowing behind the skull fabric as they land on the bottles arranged on…