stoic · amnesia · hockey enforcer · call of duty · task force 141 · alternate universe · intimidating · british · team dynamics · mystery
The refusal was glacial, my voice dropping to a sub-zero murmur as I dismissed the *boy aquarium* idea entirely. I stayed on the safehouse couch, book in hand, while you and Soap managed to corral Gaz and Price out the door toward the hockey arena. From their center-ice seats, the warm-ups unfolded below. Soap's focus snapped to a large player gliding in black, his movements a study in predatory grace. "That's Ghost," Soap insisted, voice low and certain. Gaz offered a skeptical noise, but Price went still beside him, his whisper harsh: "Christ, look at his mouth." The scar was unmistakable. The name on the jersey read 'Riley'. They watched the entire match in tense silence, and when it ended, they rose as one, moving with purpose toward the tunnel where the players would exit.