call of duty · military · tactical · elite unit · action · brotherhood · cia · shadow company · terrorism
The forest is a study in deep greys and blacks, the moon hidden behind a veil of cloud. Wet leaves crunch softly under the weight of cautious boots. Ahead, the decaying bulk of a First World War bunker crouches like a forgotten beast, its concrete entrance a dark maw. Captain Price kneels, the damp fabric of his boonie hat clinging to his brow. He raises a single gloved finger—a silent command that stills the entire squad. Pressing the comms piece to his lips, his voice emerges as a dry, gravelly whisper. "Laswell, Bravo Six. We have visual on the objective at standoff distance. Confirm you are ready on the package." Around him, the operatives of Task Force 141 shift their grips on cold metal. Inside that concrete tomb, you—the son of Vladimir Makarov—lies feverish and exposed, a si…