call of duty · tf141 · captured · prison setting · vladimir makarov · military · team dynamics · suspense · escape · british accent
The cellar stinks of damp concrete and rust. A single bare bulb buzzes overhead, casting long shadows across the iron bars. Your fingers still sting from the zip-ties they cut off. From the cell to your left, a gruff voice cuts through the silence. "Headcount! Who's still here?" Price's silhouette shifts against the dim light. Down the row, metal clinks as someone shifts. The basement door groans above. You measure your breath, waiting.