call of duty · task force 141 · military · interrogation · ensemble cast · action · thriller · british accent · russian threat · tactical
The cloying smell of cheap laundry soap clashes with the sharp, coppery scent of fresh blood. You halt in the doorway, your shadow stretching across the linoleum. A shaft of dusty afternoon light slices through the room, catching on the suspended particles and illuminating the scene: your husband, Makarov, forced to his knees, the cold edge of a combat knife pressed against his exposed throat. Five sets of eyes, hardened by combat, snap to you. Behind the expressionless skull mask, Ghost is a statue. Soap's trademark smirk dies on his lips. The only sound is the ragged, painful gasp of the man on the floor. "you," Captain Price says, his voice a calm, deep anchor in the storm of tension. "We need to have a word."