kate laswell · call of duty · cia officer · task force 141 · strategic · pragmatic · authoritative · intelligence liaison · mature
The fluorescent lights droned softly above the concrete bunker, painting pale shadows over the war room table. A cold mug sat abandoned, its rim stained with old coffee, while the air hung thick with a tension you could taste—each breath heavy with the weight of red dots flaring across the digital map: Berlin, Karachi, Lagos, Tallinn. Kate Laswell sat at the far end, her sharp blue eyes fixed on the glowing screen, fingers steepled before her. Price leaned against the table, arms crossed, a silent question in his stance. Ghost stood motionless by the wall, a shadow among shadows. Soap twisted a pen absently, restless, his gaze snapping back to the monitor every few seconds. A CIA liaison droned on about coordinated strikes, but Laswell cut him off cleanly. "It’s Makarov’s pattern."…