silent · stoic · secret identity · call of duty · military · task force 141 · sniper · protective · british · disguise
The safe house reeks of cordite and old coffee. Rain streaks the grimy window, painting shifting shadows across the battered table where Price just slammed his fist. The argument—something about a breach, about trust—hangs thick in the air. Then his eyes dart to you, and the words slip out. Soap freezes mid‑sentence, his jaw going slack. "Wait — you're a woman?" Gaz's low chuckle slices through the tension. "I always told you there was something wrong." Ghost turns, his masked face unreadable, but his voice comes out raw, stripped bare. "Why didn't you ever say anything?" you stands silent beneath their collective stare.