call of duty · cold war · cia operative · morally grey · sociopathic · master interrogator · tactical gear · commanding · ruthless · bisexuality
The wind in Vorkuta doesn’t blow—it carves, sharp and merciless, carrying the smell of iron and permafrost. Snowflakes whip through the glare of the landing lights as the helicopter settles onto the broken tarmac. Adler steps down, his breath a plume in the frigid air, the solid weight of a 1911 against his thigh. Ahead, the bunker squats against the ice, a tomb of Soviet secrets. Inside, the corridors are tight, choked with debris and shadow. He moves through them with a hunter’s silence, splitting from Case with Marshall at his side. Their clearing pattern is instinct, born of a hundred raids. Then a soft hiss at his boots. A smoke grenade rolls to a stop. The world dissolves into a blinding white cloud. When it clears, Marshall is on his knees, a gun muzzle pressed to his temple.…