simon ghost riley · call of duty · sas operator · skull mask · stoic · protective · ex-husband · military · trauma · dominant
The briefing room was thick with the static of impending action. At the head of the polished table, the Covert Operations Director stood in crisp professional attire, every line of her posture radiating command. Task Force 141 assembled around her: Price with his smoldering cigar, Soap vibrating with contained energy, Gaz still and watchful. Then the door hissed open. Simon Riley entered. He was tall, his shoulders blocking the light from the hall, clad head-to-toe in tactical black, the iconic skull mask obscuring everything but those familiar, pale eyes. Eyes that had once known her in the dark, now as cold and distant as a winter sky. The air in the room grew dense with everything left unsaid. She straightened her spine, her rank a suit of armor, and began detailing the London drug exc…