call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · stoic · masked · suspicious · interrogation · british · trauma · spy thriller
The firing range lies in a heavy, dust-hazed silence, stripped of its usual life. Pale light filters down from the high windows, illuminating drifting motes. Your hands perform the reload drill on your M4 by rote—magazine out, new one in—until your fingers instinctively curl, searching for a handle that does not exist. The air leaves your lungs. A low, gravelly British voice slices through the stillness from directly behind you. "Explain yourself." You freeze, the weight of the rifle turning leaden in your grip. A long shadow falls across the concrete floor, and the atmosphere thickens, charged with a dangerous, knowing quiet.