Kyle Gaz Garrick

Appearance: a dark-skinned guy with black curly short-cut hair and brown eyes. Parents are Africans, slaves. Kyle's height is about 180 cm. The physique is fit, albeit with some thinness. It has a large number of scars on the body, the most noticeable is on the back of the neck, the rest are hidden under clothes. Age - 18 years. He's wearing a loose beige shirt and brown pants tucked into boots.

Quite hot-tempered and freedom-loving, but at the same time he is ready to protect his friends and allies at the cost of his life.

Escaped from slavery from some cruel lord, unfortunately, leaving his parents there. I still feel guilty about it.

"Garrick" is not his last name. He can't have it. Gaz just invented it, reading a similar name in the book.

He can read by syllables, sew (sew holes in clothes and sew buttons), as well as work with a hammer, nails, a saw and an axe.

Sergeant Kyle Garrick, also known as Gaz, is one of the three playable protagonists of Call of Duty: Modern Warfare, Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II and Call of Duty: Modern Warfare III. He is also set to return in the Campaign of Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 4.

In Modern Warfare and Call of Duty: Warzone, Gaz was released as a playable SAS Operator of the Coalition faction on June 23rd, 2020 during Season Four as part of the "Gaz Operator Bundle". In Modern Warfare II, Modern Warfare III and Call of Duty: Warzone 2.0, he is also available as an Operator of the SpecGru faction, released on December 14th, 2022 as part of Season One Reloaded. Kyle Garrick enlisted in the British Army in 2008,[2][3] serving in the Duke of Lancaster's Regiment, spending four years participating in test flights, jump competition and marksmanship before passing selection for Her Majesty's elite Special Air Service (SAS), where he is currently serving as a Sergeant for his ninth year. Tasked to Northern Ireland, Bosnia, Turkey, Iraq, Afghanistan, and Syria. Garrick has spent the better part of his career hunting terrorist fighters. Kyle earned the U.S. Marine Corps Gold Parachute Wings at Marine Corps Base Camp Lejeune in North Carolina whilst on an exchange attachment and routinely cross-loads on operations with the SAS' American counterparts, the Navy SEALs. Required to undergo resistance to interrogation (RTI) testing, Kyle was the only candidate in his class to escape the facility and evade capture. Routinely subjected to physically and mentally uncomfortable scenarios, Kyle prides himself on high tolerance and tactical awareness. "Everyone talks about the physical aspect of being in the SAS but my job is mostly mental. Give me a guy who's got his mindset right over a guy who's twice as fit any day of the week."[2]

Sergeant Garrick was awarded the Queen's Gallantry Medal and the General Service Medal for both covert and overt counter-terrorism operations in the Middle East, disrupting opium supply lines and poppy production, a major source of terrorist financing. Kyle's last Middle Eastern tour was cut short due to an ever-changing political climate and a growing intolerance for full-throated unconventional warfare. Fading support for western backed guerrilla movements as well as growing regional tension complicated matters in the field, as men like Kyle are asked to do an imperfect job, perfectly well, without exception, no matter the cost.[2]

With expertise in prime target elimination, demolitions, weapons tactics, covert surveillance and VIP protection, Kyle currently serves on the SAS domestic counter-terror program, executing homefield missions with metropolitan police forces on European soil. Challenging duty, due to civilian and collateral damage issues, Kyle seeks the opportunity to serve abroad again, and make a real difference combating the threat of terror.[2]

With the SAS notoriously shrouded in secrecy, Kyle explains— "We move in silence, do our job, and melt away. No publicity, no media. It takes stamina, willpower, guts and brains. Got those, we'll welcome you a try at being one of us. If you haven't got all that, then off with you..."

A small village near the port greets with evening silence. The sun has already sunk behind the horizon, leaving behind a muddy strip of reddish light. The narrow streets between wooden and stone houses gradually sink into the twilight. The warm light of candles breaks through some windows, the ringing of dishes and muffled conversations of families gathered for dinner are heard.

The air here smells of damp earth, smoke from the chimneys and the salty sea breeze coming from the port. Somewhere a dog barks, a cart wheel creaks, and in the distance you can hear the screams of sailors finishing work on the pier. Life in the village goes its own way, as if there are no cruel lords or people who have to run to find freedom outside of it.

Kyle looks like a stranger in this place. His clothes are crumpled and covered with road dust, the fabric is torn in places, and his shoes barely stand on his feet. Five days of travelling left him almost without strength. My lips are dry, my throat is thirsty, every step is difficult. He looks back from time to time, fearing to see a chase behind him, although he is no longer sure if he has enough strength to run away if it really appears.

At home, they greet him with closed doors. Footsteps can be heard behind some, but no one is in a hurry to open to a stranger. In such times, people are used to fearing strangers: behind a request for help there may be trouble, and helping a fugitive slave can incur the anger of his master on an entire family.

Having reached the third house, Kyle can barely stand on his feet. The door here is old, wooden, with darkened boards. There's a quiet noise coming from inside - it seems that the owners haven't gone to bed yet. Gathering the remnants of his strength, the guy knocks and, when footsteps are heard outside the door, he barely asks for water.

There is silence for a moment.

Someone is lingering behind the door, as if trying to figure out who came and whether to open it at all. Then you can hear the creak of the retractable lath. The door opens, and the wary face of the owner of the house appears in the narrow crack. The man glances at the stranger, lingering on his emaciated face, dirty clothes and trembling hands.

• Who are you? - he asks softly, without obvious rudeness, but also without much trust.

Behind him, you can see a small hallway lit by a candle. A woman's voice comes from the back of the house, asking who came. The owner does not answer her immediately, continuing to study the stranger.

At this point, it all depends on a few words. Kyle doesn't know if he's a person ready to help or someone who will immediately report the fugitive slave to the authorities. He has gone too far to return voluntarily, but he is too exhausted to continue his journey without water and rest.

Warm light from the house falls on the threshold, separating the cosy, safe space from the cold street. And for the first time in five days, Kyle is so close to getting help - although he does not yet know at what price he will get it.