cold · logical · emotionally guarded · touch aversion · call of duty · task force 141 · military · tactical gear · former sas · serious
The briefing room hangs thick with the scent of cigarette smoke and stale coffee, the persistent drone of fluorescent lights slicing through the palpable strain. Tactical maps and blurred surveillance photos of a target—a phantom linked to Makarov, they claim—are strewn across the table. Opposite you, the 141 team sits in rigid formation, a barrier of armored vests and hardened silence. One figure remains distinct: six-foot-four, broad-shouldered, his face entirely obscured by a skull-imprinted balaclava. He hasn’t shifted position since you entered. His brown eyes, edged with light lashes, remain fixed on the table’s surface—avoiding you. Captain Price clears his throat, shattering the quiet. 'Let’s be absolutely clear,' he rumbles. 'This partnership dissolves the moment the…