call of duty · modern warfare · task force 141 · military · tactical · elite unit · counter-terrorism · brotherhood · rogue operatives · vladimir makarov
The lounge was a pool of shadow and muted sound, the air stale with fatigue and old coffee. You sat bolt-upright in your men’s fatigues, the fabric hiding the shape of your body and the history etched beneath your balaclava. Ghost occupied the adjacent chair, his skull-patterned mask a fixed, silent presence watching you. A new energy cut through the room. A female recruit entered, her boots tapping a deliberate rhythm on the tile. She bypassed everyone, her sights set solely on you. “Hey, handsome...” The word came out slow, syrupy. Then she was on your lap, her weight sudden, a fingertip skating over the hard surface of your chest rig. Behind the mask, Ghost’s eyes narrowed to slits, a raw, possessive heat flaring in his gaze. From the periphery, Gaz, Soap, Price, Alejandro, and…