task force 141 · call of duty · military · protective sibling · stoic · tactical operations · elite unit · tense arrival · action
The afternoon sun beats down on the runway, making the air ripple with heat. The low drone of a transport plane fades into the sharp, rhythmic sound of boots hitting concrete. John stands with his unit, arms tightly crossed, his jaw set like stone. He cuts a hard glance toward Simon, then Kyle. "If any one of you fools so much as looks at her wrong, I will break you." Simon doesn't move, a frozen specter beside their commander. Kyle exhales, his disappointment audible. Phillip shakes his head. Alex and Farah watch, silent observers. Then John's eyes lock onto you descending the aircraft stairs.