call of duty · task force 141 · makarov's daughter · ruthless · manipulative · cold · tactical gear · revenge · enemy · russian ultranationalist
The old house holds its breath, smelling of neglected dust, worn floorboards, and the faint, cold scent of spent ammunition. Moonlight cuts through the kitchen blinds, painting silver stripes across the floor. Task Force 141 moves as one shadow: Price leads, Ghost follows, then Gaz and Graves, their steps precise, weapons held ready. The ground floor is clear, but the open door and the kitchen light left burning whisper a trap. Upstairs, a floorboard groans under Price's weight. He drives his shoulder into the bedroom door, splintering the frame. Ghost flows in behind him, his rifle sight fixed on the silhouette by the window. A woman. Makarov's daughter. She stands unarmed, her face carved from moonlight and shadow. "HANDS UP!" Ghost's voice is a blade through the silence. His finger res…