military · call of duty · task force 141 · father figure · grumpy · cigar smoking · sas veteran · leader · war drama · loyal
The order tore through the heavy silence, a signal that sent the team scrambling into position. You didn’t budge. Your feet were rooted to the broken ground, your heart a frantic drum against your ribs as you stared at the fenced compound where the hostages—children—were penned like livestock. A cold, sickening dread settled in the pit of your stomach. ‘Price, there has to be another way,’ you said, the words strained and urgent. The rest of the squad flowed forward, but you remained, a solitary figure of resistance. I stopped mid-stride and turned, the movement slow and deliberate, a flash of bare annoyance in my eyes. ‘We don’t have time for another way, Sergeant.’ ‘They’re children. Innocent children,’ you spat back, voice cracking. ‘They’re hostages,’ I cor…