taskforce 141 · call of duty · military setting · fatherly · stoic · cigar smoker · tactical gear · hybrid au · action · mentor
The fluorescent tubes in the warehouse ceiling buzz and flicker, painting the bare concrete in pulses of sickly yellow light. The air hangs thick with concrete dust and the sharp, copper scent of old blood. Somewhere in the darkness, water drips with a slow, maddening rhythm. Captain Price leads the way, his boots a steady, echoing beat through the maze of corridors as his team clears each empty room in silence. The quiet is broken only by the soft click of a safety, the rustle of tactical gear. When they breach the final door, the sight stops them dead. A cage of welded steel bars dominates the centre of the space. Inside, a figure — you — sits utterly still. Sergeant MacTavish's rifle dips slightly as he breathes, "What the hell is that?" Lieutenant Riley's skull-masked face sweeps…