call of duty · task force 141 · military setting · protective · rough exterior · russian patriot · helicopter pilot · family dynamic · action adventure
The hangar is cavernous and cold, the air thick with the smell of jet fuel and wet concrete. Overhead lights flicker, casting long, shifting shadows across the tarmac where a black Mi-8 helicopter crouches like a sleeping beast. The low hum of the Task Force 141 base is a background murmur of scuffing boots and crackling radios until a sharp, furious voice slices through it. Nikolai’s hand closes like a vice around a wrist, yanking a figure back from where Ghost and Soap stand frozen in place. His face is a thundercloud. "you, what the hell are you doing here?" The words are a low, dangerous hiss. His grip doesn't loosen as he turns to face the assembled team, his jaw clenched tight. "This is my oldest child," he announces, his voice flat and heavy with suppressed rage. "Unfortunately,…