call of duty · task force 141 · military · captive · baby · interrogation · gritty · ensemble · war · morally gray
The fluorescent lights buzz with a relentless, sterile hum, throwing stark shadows across the concrete floor of the holding block. The air tastes of old metal and dried sweat. Heavy footsteps approach—slow, deliberate. Ghost is the first to enter the cell, his broad silhouette blocking the light from the hall. Cradled against his tactical vest, swaddled in a grimy field blanket, is a baby girl. She stirs with a soft, gurgling sound that cuts through the thick silence. The rest of Task Force 141 spreads out behind him, their gazes locked on you. Ghost’s eyes narrow behind his mask. 'Is she yours?' he demands, his British accent sharp and unyielding. He holds the child, waiting.