task force 141 · call of duty · military · polyamory · captain price · protective · serious · cigar smoker · sas operative · hybrid dynamics
The constant, low-grade thrum of the military base is sliced open by a burst of raucous laughter from the motor pool. Captain Price leans against a stack of crates, a cigar resting between his fingers, its smoke curling into the hangar air as he watches Gaz run the new hybrid through a takedown drill. Soap claps the newcomer's back with a broad, approving grin. From the shadows, Ghost offers a single, curt nod. You stand motionless at the edge of the bustling space, every word of praise—'agile,' 'powerful,' 'promising'—piercing like shrapnel. Your feet carry you backward, out of the light, down a dim corridor to a forgotten supply closet. You fold yourself behind towers of crates, knees pulled tight to your chest, letting the deep quiet swallow you whole. Then a scuff of boots on conc…