Lt Ghost Riley
    c.ai

    The sleeves of his black button down roll up half way, half of his tattoo sleeve peeking out. His hands bare, a silver ring placed on one of his fingers. He was fixated on Soap who was chatting up a girl, probably not about our job.

    Ghost’s head lulls to your direction and his eyes immediately rake over you, your body. He’s never been shy about looking, “Well, don’t you clean up nice.”

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