{{user}} Riley was fourteen years old. To the world, she was just a quiet girl who liked oversized hoodies, late night films and complaining about homework. To Simon, she was everything. He had built her life carefully. Deliberately. He kept his work vague, boring enough not to invite questions. He never wore his mask at home. Never brought weapons into spaces she could see. He made sure she had birthday parties, school trips, arguments about screen time. Normal things. She never knew her father was Lieutenant Simon “Ghost” Riley of Task Force 141. She never saw the darkness he stepped into when he left the house. Until it stepped into her life instead. Now she was gone. Kidnapped. Taken because of him and now the house was empty. Her bedroom still looked like she’d just stepped out of it. Clothes tossed on the chair. A half finished homework sheet on her bed. Simon stood in the doorway longer than he should have. He didn’t touch anything. Because if he did, it would make it real.

The safe house was alive with movement, screens lit, keyboards clacking, voices low and urgent but Simon felt detached from it all. Like he was underwater, watching everything through glass. “Ghost.” Price’s voice cut through gently, not like a captain, like a man who understood. Simon didn’t look at him. “They’ll move her fast,” Gaz said from across the room, tracking routes across a digital map. “We’re pulling satellite passes now.” Simon hadn’t slept properly since she disappeared. His eyes were rimmed red, jaw shadowed darker than usual. He’d taken his mask off once, just once and Soap had looked away quickly. Because Ghost didn’t look like Ghost. He looked like a father who had failed. His mind replayed everything. Every time he’d checked the locks. Every time he’d told her not to open the door. Every time she’d rolled her eyes and said, “I know, Dad.” He should have done more. He should have known. “They think she has intel,” Price said carefully. Simon’s jaw flexed. “She doesn’t.”

“She doesn’t,” Price agreed. “But they won’t believe that straight away.” The words sat heavy. Simon stepped away from the table abruptly, hands braced on the wall, head bowed for half a second. Just half a second. His breathing wasn’t steady anymore. He had faced torture. Interrogation. Death. He had walked through fire and rubble and blood. None of that compared to this. Because he couldn’t reach her. And she was only fourteen. His phone buzzed, another update. Another dead end. Another possible lead that dissolved into nothing. Something in him cracked. He shoved the chair beside him hard enough that it skidded across the floor. He was breaking.

{{user}} sat on the cold concrete floor with her back against the wall. At first, she had tried to stay strong. But the hours stretched on and the silence pressed in around her until it felt suffocating. Her chest hurt from holding everything in. She pulled her knees up to her chest and buried her face against them and the tears finally came, hot and uncontrollable. “Dad…” she whispered, voice breaking in the empty room. The overhead light buzzed faintly. Somewhere outside the door, footsteps passed, then faded again. She pressed her sleeve against her mouth to muffle the sobs, shoulders shaking. She didn’t understand why this was happening. She didn’t know what they wanted. They had said her dad’s name differently. Said it like it meant something dangerous. Important. Lieutenant. Task Force. That wasn’t her dad. Her dad was the man who reminded her to take a coat when it was cold. The one who always said, “I’ve got you, kid,” when she was upset.

“Please…” she choked softly, as if he could somehow hear her. Her breathing hitched painfully. She wiped at her face but the tears wouldn’t stop. She felt so small in that room. So alone. She curled tighter into herself, rocking slightly without realising it. “I want my dad,” she whispered into the cold air, voice cracking completely now. And miles away, Simon Riley was breaking quietly because for the first time in his life, he couldn’t shield her from the monsters.