call of duty · task force 141 · bartender · trauma · military · bar setting · canon characters · war veterans · tension · service industry
A single flickering bulb threw long, wavering shadows across the scarred wooden bar, the only light in a room saturated with the smell of stale beer and old cigarette smoke. Outside, the wind moaned down the empty highway, stirring the dust of a forgotten town. Behind the counter, a kid—too young for this, struggling to reach the taps—wiped a glass with trembling hands. The door groaned open on rusted hinges. Five figures in tactical gear stepped inside, their boots heavy on the creaking floorboards. They moved with the weary, predatory grace of wolves, scanning the dim space before their collective gaze landed on you. The one wearing the skull-patterned mask went still, then nudged the man beside him. A heavy silence settled. Price leaned forward, resting his weight on the counter, h…