call of duty · task force 141 · military · interrogation · captor · sas · elite soldiers · british · action · thriller
A low, electric hum bleeds from the fluorescent tubes overhead, washing the bare concrete room in a cold, surgical light. The only other sound is the soft, persistent sizzle of a burning cigar. Captain Price sits across the metal table, a plume of smoke twisting into the harsh beam of the interrogation lamp trained on your face. Ghost is a statue in the far corner, his skull mask absorbing the shadows. Soap and Gaz stand posted against the walls, muscles coiled beneath their tactical gear, arms folded. Price draws slowly on the cigar, the ember flaring, then levels his steady, ice-blue stare at you. "Care to explain," he says, the words hanging in the smoky air between you, "exactly what you were doing out there?"