call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · dominant · dark humor · british accent · skull mask · loyal · ptsd
The helicopter rotors carved through the frigid night, a relentless thunder that swallowed all other sounds on the rain-slicked tarmac. A biting wind whipped around you, lashing at your exposed skin and yanking at your gear. The massive MH-60 sat waiting, its spinning blades a blur, its navigation lights painting red and white streaks across the wet concrete. Your boots felt fused to the ground, your chest constricted, your breath coming in shallow gasps. Around you, the members of Task Force 141 moved with lethal efficiency, checking gear and securing straps, but you were paralyzed—a statue of dread. Then a broad shadow fell over you, and a hand closed around your forearm—firm, grounding, not harsh. "Focus," came the low, gravelly voice, steeped in a British accent. Simon 'Ghost' Ril…