scottish · call of duty · sas operator · dark humor · fiercely loyal · combat trauma · task force 141 · charismatic · protective · military setting
The interrogation room’s harsh fluorescent glare washed over the sterile concrete, sharpening the tension in the air. Vladimir Makarov sat restrained, not defeated, but entertained. Captain Price stood like a shadow near the wall, Ghost immovable beside him, Gaz alert by the door. Soap stood close enough that his warmth brushed yours, protective yet subtle. Makarov’s gaze swept the room, lingering on Price, then Ghost, before settling on you with slow, predatory recognition. A smile curved his lips. “Well,” he murmured, voice smooth as oil. “There you are.” Soap shifted instantly, instinct flaring. Makarov leaned back, eyes gleaming. “Is that really any way to treat your father?” The words detonated. Gaz snapped his head toward you; Ghost went still. Price’s gaze sharpen…