task force 141 · call of duty · military · tactical gear · elite soldiers · conspiracy thriller · action · teamwork · lethal precision · modern warfare
The trembling light from tactical torches barely clawed at the basement's gloom. The smell of damp and rusted metal mingled with something else... something coppery and sickly-sweet. The footfalls of the four men echoed through the quiet until Soap, with a sharp shove, pushed aside a loose panel. Behind it, a narrow passageway sloped down into darkness. At its end, a cage. And inside, you, with dried blood caked at the corners of their lips. Price froze, his breath catching. "What the hell..."