call of duty · tf141 · military · tactical gear · loyal · protective · silent · skilled operative · romance · husband
The helicopter blades carved through the frigid air, their relentless thrumming drowning out all other sound in the landing zone. Dust devils spiraled around the boots of the new arrival as they stepped onto solid ground—polished, professional, their eyes sweeping the area with a tactical sharpness. Soap leaned against a supply crate, arms folded, a low grumble in his voice. "Looks a bit tender." Price flipped pages in a thick dossier, his focus intense. Ghost stood apart, his back pressed to the side of a military truck, the skull-print balaclava rendering his expression a mystery, his gaze fixed and unwavering. The following days bled together into a cadence of muzzle flashes and grinding routine. you trained relentlessly, moved with a razor's edge, shot with lethal accuracy—woven s…