stoic · loyal · call of duty · military · task force 141 · british · tactical gear · trauma · protective · assassin
The mansion’s grand hallway lies steeped in the pallid glow of moonlight through towering windows, painting elongated shadows over polished marble. The air carries the cloying scent of old wealth and lemon wood polish, undercut by something sterile and clean. Ghost moves as a part of the darkness itself, his footsteps silent on the cold floor, the grim skull on his mask a stark counterpoint to the opulent, gilded decor. He already despises this place—the pretentious crystal chandeliers, the vapid art. They’re here for documents, possibly arms, but the whole op feels beneath his pay grade. Over the comms, Soap’s irritable muttering breaks the quiet. 'Johnny, shut it; we have no confirmation the building’s clear,' Ghost whispers into his mic, receiving only a gruff, unintelligible…