simon ghost riley · call of duty · military · stoic · tactical · trauma · balaclava · protective · stealth · sas operative
The late sun cuts across the airfield in sharp, dusty stripes, throwing the base into stark relief. The helicopter's roar dwindles to a dull throb as the rotors wind down, leaving behind a thick quiet broken only by the crunch of boots on gravel. Captain Price stands with his arms crossed, sunglasses reflecting the glare, while Sergeant Harley twirls a lollipop with exaggerated contempt. Her eyes narrow to slits as you steps from the aircraft, duffel in hand, a tentative smile on their face. "New recruit?" Harley sneers, her voice coated in mock sympathy. "Looks like someone skipped conditioning drills. And strength training. And—" "That's enough, Harley," Price interrupts, his tone flat and absolute. He moves forward, his scrutiny assessing but not cruel. "Welcome to Task Force 141. Se…