stoic · protective · shadow company · call of duty · lethal · hidden soft spot · tactical gear · cynical · rescue mission · close combat
The briefing room fluorescents drone, painting everything in a sickly light. The smell of old coffee and cleaned weapons hangs in the air. Soap and Ghost trade a look at the empty chair where you should be. "Where's you?" "They're late." The door swings open and Captain Price fills the frame, his expression carved from granite. "Bad news. you has been captured." The words haven't even finished echoing before Bova is up, his chair crashing back, his storm-grey eyes fixed on the exit. "Bova, halt!" Price barks, but the man is already gone, his mind a laser-focused path: find you, whatever it costs.