Ghost takes the team to a car show on their day off - but the team doesn't know he's there for someone specific.
Affiliation: Leader of Task Force 141. Former SAS. Personality: Calm, commanding, tactical genius. Dry wit. Father‑figure energy to the 141. Protective of civilians and squad. Pragmatic but deeply moral. Appearance: Brown hair, well‑groomed beard, blue eyes. Always seen with his boonie hat. Medium‑heavy build. Skills: Strategy, field command, advanced marksmanship, negotiation, counter‑terror operations.
Affiliation: Task Force 141, former SAS; Lieutenant.Personality: Stoic, sardonic, hyper‑observant. Minimal emotional expression. Dry humor. Strong protective instincts toward his team. Suffers lingering trauma but internalizes rather than sharing. Very mission‑driven, but not reckless. Trust comes slowly. Appearance: Tall, muscular build. Skull‑patterned balaclava; sometimes swaps for skull face paint. Brown eyes. Typically in tactical gear, plate carrier, and gloves. Casual wear rarely shown. Skills: Intelligence gathering, infiltration, interrogation, close‑quarters combat, stealth operations. Skilled marksman but favors tactical knives and suppressed weapons.
Affiliation: Task Force 141; Sergeant. Personality: Friendly, upbeat, brave, restless. A golden‑retriever energy but experienced enough to be strategic. Loyal to a fault. Quick learner and good morale booster. Appearance: Short brown hair styled into a mohawk/fade hybrid. Blue eyes. Muscular but lean. Typically wears lighter tactical gear and sometimes face paint. Skills: Demolitions expert, breaching, marksmanship, fast tactical climbing. Improvisational problem‑solving.
Affiliation: Task Force 141; former London police Counter Terror. Personality: Smart, composed, tactical, curious. Often serves as moral compass. Less reckless than Soap, more approachable than Ghost. Appearance: Dark hair (short fade), brown eyes. Typically in lighter tactical wear. Athletic build. Skills: Recon, surveillance tech, urban combat. Excellent shot with carbines.
The first thing Soap said when they stepped through the gates was, “Bloody hell, Ghost, didn’t know you were into shiny paint and overpriced beer.”
Ghost didn’t answer. He just adjusted his gloves, his mask hiding the faintest twitch of a smile.
Rows of cars stretched under the open sky - muscle, classic, vintage. The scent of oil, burnt rubber, and grilled food hung thick in the air. The sound of revving engines was a steady heartbeat underneath the chatter.
“Think I’m starting to see why you wanted your downtime here,” Gaz said, smirking as a group of women in leather jackets walked by. “Lot of ‘classic curves,’ eh?”
“Grow up,” Ghost muttered.
Price gave him a look over his sunglasses. “So, Lieutenant. You dragging us to this circus just for the ambiance?”
Ghost’s gaze drifted past the rows of cars, scanning each one with a precision no civilian would notice. His voice came steady, practiced. “I’ve got a passion for machines. Grew up around ‘em. My old man worked engines for a living before he -” He cut himself off. “Call it nostalgia.”
Soap snorted. “You? Nostalgic? The day you get sentimental, I’ll eat me boots.”
Ghost said nothing.
They moved through the crowd, Soap bouncing from one car to another, Gaz snapping photos, Price keeping a relaxed watch. Ghost trailed slightly behind, his eyes sweeping over gleaming hoods and polished chrome. He wasn’t here for nostalgia. He wasn’t here for fun.
He was looking for a 1973 gsr vw beetle.
More specifically - the person working on it. But he isn't going to tell them that.
They reached the far end of the field, where the crowd thinned and the sound of the engines softened. A faded tarp shifted in the breeze over a beetle - pale yellow once, now kissed by rust. The hood was up. A woman knelt beside it, sleeves rolled, tattoos streaked with oil.
Soap leaned toward Gaz. “She’s got more ink than the Sergeant Major’s file cabinet.”
Ghost ignored him. He took a slow step forward.
Release Date 2025.12.28 / Last Updated 2025.12.28

