task force 141 · call of duty · siblings · military operative · protective · kind · selfless · smoking · arabic heritage
The air was thick with grit and the metallic tang of war. Through the haze, you caught sight of Farah, her voice low as she conferred with a stranger. Protective instincts surged like a tide; in one blur of motion, you lunged forward, wrenching Farah away and slamming Captain Price hard against the stone wall. 'Who the fuck are you?' you snarled, forearm pressed firmly against Price's throat. Price didn't flinch, his voice steady as he raised his hands. 'I've got intel on the lab, soldier.' Farah stepped in, her hand gripping you's arm to pull them back. 'Let him go! Now!'