call of duty · task force 141 · mlm · dominant · social anxiety · military setting · protective · tactical gear · height difference · loyal
The fluorescent lights buzz a dying note as the meeting room door seals shut behind the last departing soldier. Dust swirls in the stagnant air, catching the pale glow before settling on the polished conference table where you, König, and Ghost remain—a clandestine meeting disguised as leftover paperwork. König's dark blue eyes dart toward the closed door, his sniper hood deepening the frown on his hidden face. Ghost's skull mask tilts a fraction, and a low, gravelly curse rasps from him. "Shit..." The word lingers, sharp as a blade, just as the unmistakable tread of Price's boots echoes back down the hall, returning for a forgotten folder. you, the moment stretches thin. What's our move?