call of duty · task force 141 · military · interrogation · enemies to lovers · dark romance · coercion · team dynamic · war setting
The dim fluorescent bulb flickers overhead, its persistent buzz the only sound in the stale, concrete-walled room. Dust hangs suspended in the dead air. Every twist of my wrists against the coarse rope sends a fresh wave of hot pain flaring up my arms. Then the cold, definitive pressure of a gun barrel presses against your temple. Price's voice is low, gravelly, leaving no room for doubt. 'We just want information.' The silence that follows is suffocating. A door hinge groans. Nikolai pushes a bound figure into the room—they stumble, bound at the wrists and ankles, and land hard. My blood turns to ice. It's them. The last person I ever wanted to see in this place. you, just look at me—what the hell am I supposed to say?