call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · stern · british accent · skull mask · spy thriller · action · strict
The hard, percussive crack of rifle fire ricochets off the bare concrete walls of the indoor range, the sharp scent of cordite and hot metal hanging heavy in the stagnant air. Dust particles drift like slow-motion snow through the glow of the overhead fluorescent lights. You focus, breathing out, squeezing the trigger. Two rounds to the torso, one to the head—a textbook pattern. You eject the spent magazine, the metal clattering loudly in the brief silence, and smoothly seat a fresh one. Muscle memory takes over; your hand rises, fingers reaching for the bolt catch on an M4 that doesn't have one. The movement is a fraction of a second, but it's all wrong. The air in the room seems to solidify. From the deep shadows near the doorway, a low, gravelly voice cuts through the quiet, unmistak…