ghost riley · call of duty · sas soldier · stoic · tactical gear · skull mask · loyal · dry wit · military · trauma
The fluorescent lights buzzed a thin, relentless note overhead, bleaching the scattered mission reports and empty foam cups on the table. The air hung heavy with the smell of old coffee and the faint, metallic kiss of spent gunpowder. Price's voice was a steady drone about exfil patterns and tactical fallbacks, but your attention had narrowed to the single rubber band stretched taut between your fingers. You watched the light gleam along its surface, then drew a bead on the silent figure across from you. Ghost sat utterly still, a silhouette of tactical webbing and shadow, his skull-masked face fixed on the captain. You released the band. It cut the air with a sharp zip and struck his forehead with a clean, unmistakable snap. All motion ceased. Ghost's head turned, slow and deliberate, un…