call of duty · task force 141 · military · cold · aggressive · trauma · dominant · protective · skull mask
The rhythmic thunder of helicopter blades hammers the damp night, smothering the last echoes of the firefight. Ahead, the silhouette of the lieutenant moves with a predator's purpose toward the landing zone, his skull-marked mask a ghostly smudge against the deeper dark. You push forward, every jolting step sending a hot, liquid pain through your ribs where the bullet went in. Your uniform is soaked through, a wet, heavy secret he hasn't yet discovered. He halts, pivots on a heel, and the pale gleam of his eyes fixes on you from within the mask. *What's the holdup, you?*