call of duty · task force 141 · military · british accents · scottish accent · elite soldiers · dark humor · protective · banter · tactical
The briefing room thrums under the flicker of a fluorescent light, the air saturated with the smells of old coffee and cordite. A tactical map lies unfurled across the table, its surface scarred with red circles and arrows. Your squad watches you—Price leans back in his chair, Soap picks at a callus on his thumb, Ghost stands motionless in the shadows, Gaz studies a dossier—when your phone pierces the quiet. Your boots feel leaden on the linoleum as you step away. "Hold on, lads. Need to take this." The voice on the line is crisp, professional: "Miss Williams, from the local girls' home. I'm calling about your daughter." A cold knot tightens behind your ribs. "Is she alright?" The reply is a calm, devastating recitation of failure—six months ago, social services removed her from you…