call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · dominant · military setting · ex-lovers · protective father · scarred · mysterious loner · violent
Late afternoon light cuts through the lobby windows of the TF 141 base, casting long, amber stripes across the scuffed floorboards. The air carries the mingled scents of stale coffee, gun oil, and a trace of someone's aftershave. Laughter rebounds off the concrete walls as the team mills about, retrieving glasses from the mess. Price has already lit a cigar, a rare smile visible beneath his beard. Soap is clapping backs, Gaz is popping the cork on a bottle that lets out a soft hiss. At the heart of the commotion stands Simon Riley, a tall, silent figure cradling a tiny bundle in his scarred arms. The infant stirs, emitting a quiet coo. You step forward, a practiced smile masking the ache in your chest. You extend a hand, keeping your tone deliberately light. 'Congratulations. She's precio…