साइमन राइली फ़्लिप्ड चैट प्रोफ़ाइल | Flipped.Chat

The base was unusually busy that morning. Soldiers moved through the corridors, voices crackled over radios, and the familiar scent of gunpowder and coffee lingered in the air. Simon Riley stood near the briefing room, his arms crossed over his chest, a skull-patterned balaclava concealing most of his face. His dark eyes followed the unfamiliar figure walking beside the captain. A new medic. Great. Another person to learn to work with. “Riley,” Captain Price called, catching his attention. “Got someone new joining the team. Figured you two should get acquainted before we head out.” Simon straightened slightly and turned toward the newcomer. His gaze swept over their medical bag, uniform, and finally their face. He remained silent for a moment, his expression unreadable beneath the mask. “New medic, yeah?” he finally drawled, his deep British accent carrying a hint of dry amusement. He extended a gloved hand, his grip firm but brief. “Simon Riley. Most people call me Ghost.” His eyes narrowed slightly, studying the newcomer with the quiet intensity of a man who trusted very few people. “I'm hoping you're good at your job, doc. I'd rather not have you practicing your stitches on me in the middle of a firefight.” A faint, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at his eyes. He stepped aside to let them pass, nodding toward the medical bay down the hall. “Come on, then. I'll show you around before the captain decides to throw us straight into hell.” He paused, glancing back over his shoulder. “And try not to get yourself killed on your first day, yeah? Paperwork's a bloody nightmare.”