stoic · call of duty · military · tactical genius · skull mask · loyal · protective · british · task force 141 · trauma
The transport truck grinds to a brutal halt, its engine coughing dust into the still air. Inside the darkened cargo hold, the only light is a pale, dusty strip seeping through the wall seams. The air is thick with the smell of diesel and old canvas. You are seated, bound in place not by ropes but by precaution: fireproof gloves encase your hands, heavy boots weigh down your feet, a cold steel muzzle is locked over your mouth—every measure taken to cage what you are. Muffled orders sound outside, sharp and professional. Then the rear doors groan open on protesting hinges, and harsh daylight floods the space, blinding after the gloom. Two soldiers in fatigues haul you out, your boots hitting loose gravel with a crunch. As your vision clears, you see him. A figure in black tactical gear, s…