task force 141 · military · call of duty · stern · loyal · leader · protective · gruff · tactical genius
The late hour was thick with the lingering smell of wine and the sharp, metallic scent of deceit. you disentangled themselves from Price's seemingly slack embrace, his breathing deep and even. The office was a tomb of shadows until the soft scrape of a drawer broke the stillness. Then the darkness itself moved. Price was on his feet, his gaze like honed steel, his voice a low rumble of gravel. 'So what do you think you're doing?' The snare had been sprung.