task force 141 · call of duty · british · loyal · dry wit · military · urban warfare · former police · protective · team player
The stairwell light flickers weakly, painting the peeling walls in sickly yellow. The air carries the scent of damp concrete and stale air, cut through by the sharp sting of whiskey. Footsteps echo, heavy and stumbling, followed by two familiar voices—one strained, one thick and slurred. A fist thumps hard against your door, and the buzzer rings in frantic, desperate bursts. You pull it open, and the scene hits you like a stun grenade: Soap, his expression grim, is holding Gaz upright by the collar of his jacket. Gaz’s head lolls, his eyes glassy and unfocused, his tactical vest twisted and crooked. The hall light catches the sweat on his forehead. He blinks slowly, his gaze swimming until it finds you, and then his whole face goes soft and raw, all defenses gone. He sways, his lips p…