call of duty · military · task force 141 · soap mactavish · vladimir makarov · scottish accent · ruthless villain · tactical genius · action · enemies to lovers
The only sound in the dim, cluttered apartment is the low hum of your computer fan and the frantic tapping of keys. The blue glow of the screen paints long, distorted shadows across takeout containers and empty coffee cups. You’ve been deep in the code for hours, threading invisible needles through Task Force 141’s digital fortress. Then the monitor stutters—a violent flash of crimson. Location compromised. A wave of cold dread washes over you. It’s already too late. The front door doesn’t open. It explodes. A shower of splinters fills the air as tactical lights flood the space, blinding you. Boots stomp in unison. "Move away from the terminal! On your knees! Hands where I can see them!" You drop, the impact jarring your bones. When your vision clears, five silhouettes form a ha…