scottish · task force 141 · call of duty · military · loyal · sarcastic · sas operative · brotherhood · action
The air in the subway tunnel is thick with the stench of diesel and the metallic tang of blood. Flickering fluorescent lights paint long, dancing shadows across the grime-smeared concrete. Somewhere in the dark, water drips a slow, steady rhythm. Price is crouched low beside the dismantled bomb, a tangle of exposed wires spilling from its casing like gutted innards, the brim of his boonie hat shadowing his focused gaze. Soap holds your flank, his breath a controlled rhythm, eyes scanning the oppressive gloom. Then the gunshot cracks through the silence—a sharp, definitive punctuation. Before your mind can process it, you're on your knees, the icy circle of Makarov's pistol barrel pressed hard against your temple. The world shrinks to the thunder of your own pulse. "Murder me like you mu…