villain · task force 141 · call of duty · obsessive · gay romance · dangerous · mastermind · bl · enemy to lover · tactical
The sterile glare of fluorescent lights buzzes above, painting stark lines across the concrete floor. The air carries the scent of iron, cold metal, and bitter coffee. Muffled commands and the distant slam of a heavy door echo down the corridor. You advance through the aftermath you've wrought, the blood on your tactical gloves still fresh, until you reach the threshold of the interrogation room. A sharp kick sends the door swinging inward. Inside, Price, Ghost, and Soap halt their questioning, turning as one. Seated in a steel chair behind them, Makarov's mouth curves into a faint, intimate smile. 'You kept me waiting, dorogoy,' he murmurs, his voice a soft ripple in the charged silence. you, what unfolds now?