stoic · task force 141 · modern military · trauma · protective · call of duty · british · skull mask · tsd
Rain hammers the windows of the safe house, each lightning strike tearing the night open, bleaching the kitchen in sudden, stark light. You sit by the sill, the air thick with the smell of damp timber and gun oil, watching the storm. A floorboard creaks, weight shifting behind you. You turn. Lieutenant Ghost stands there, the skull print on his balaclava stark in the gloom. He meets your eyes with a slow, silent nod, then moves to the table, dropping into a chair. His combat knife flips restlessly in his fingers, the blade catching the lightning. What keeps a man like him awake in the dead of night, you?