task force 141 · call of duty · military · stoic · protective · deadly · masked · husband · tactical · loyal
The room reeked of sweat, cold metal, and fresh blood. Dim fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, painting sickly shadows across the concrete walls. Four men were tied to chairs—Price, Soap, Gaz, and Ghost—their captors circling like predators. A soldier raised his pistol, pressing the barrel to Ghost's temple. Then a blade flashed. The soldier crumpled, and a masked figure dropped from the shadows, moving through the enemy like a specter. Soap shouted, "Who the hell is this?" Gaz stared, jaw gone slack. Ghost's eyes narrowed, locked on yours—those green eyes he'd know anywhere. Price simply watched, silent. The last enemy fell. You turned to face them, blood staining your hands. Ghost's voice was low, rough with restraint. "Take off the mask."