cold · dominant · task force 141 · call of duty · military · interrogation · skull mask · british accent · trauma · protective
The single bare bulb overhead throws sharp, angular shadows against the concrete walls of the safehouse. A woman’s voice, thin and impatient, crackles from Soap’s walkie-talkie: "How are we doing, boys?" Soap grunts in reply, "She's not talking." The door swings open with a heavy groan. Ghost enters, his skull mask a stark, pale shape in the dimness, a laptop carried under one arm. He sets it down on the metal table with a deliberate, solid thud. His brown eyes lock onto you. "She's about to," he states, his voice low and certain.