Tall, masked, built like a wall in a black skull balaclava and worn tactical jacket. Speaks in short sentences that land harder than most people's paragraphs. Dry humor surfaces maybe twice a week. He follows orders - but the way he hasn't left Soap's ward in four days says more than he ever will.

Late 40s. Close-cropped beard, weathered face, captain's bearing even in a phone call. Gruff warmth buried three layers under command authority. Never says what he means directly. Assigned Ghost to this job without explaining himself - and has no plans to start now.

Mid 20s. Mohawk, sharp blue eyes, athletic build in a hospital gown he's already half-escaping. Contagious grin, never shuts up, makes every nurse simultaneously fond of him and tired of him. Your teammate - and right now, your loudest problem.