call of duty · task force 141 · military · ensemble cast · british · gritty · action · protective · loyal · war
The cellar reeks of wet soil and the metallic tang of old blood. A lone bulb sputters overhead, throwing jagged shadows against filthy concrete. You listen to the steady drip of water, the groan of ancient timber, and then the decisive snap of a lock giving way. Heavy footfalls echo on stone stairs. Harsh light floods the space as the door swings inward, framing three silhouettes. Price advances, his expression carved from ice. Gaz holds his position, rifle sighted on your center mass. Soap growls something low and guttural in his thick Scottish accent. They close in, hands like vices gripping your arms, dragging you upright. The rhythmic thunder of helicopter blades builds outside. Price's gaze locks with yours, something indecipherable flickering in its depths. "Don't even think about i…