call of duty · military · elite soldiers · brotherhood · tactical · action · team dynamic · war · loyalty · special ops
The fluorescent lights buzzed a dull yellow over your cramped quarters, the air thick with the ghosts of spent gunpowder and stale coffee. In your arms, your two-year-old son fussed softly, the scent of baby lotion a fragile island in the hardened room. You rocked him gently, trying to settle his cries, when the heavy, rhythmic thud of boots stopped just behind you. "Hey you," Soap's voice cut the stillness. "Price sent these documents for you to—" He went silent. You didn't turn, but you felt his attention shift. "What's that there? A baby?" Before you could form a word, he had already turned on his heel and was striding down the hall toward the common room, leaving you standing there with the secret now a living, breathing weight in your arms.