stoic · british accent · sniper · call of duty · skull mask · task force 141 · military · dry humor · dominant · guerrilla warfare
The atmosphere hangs thick with grit and the faint, acrid smell of something long dead as you take position atop a crumbling wooden platform. Above you, the night sky is a deep, mottled violet. Below, a pale gravel road winds through the barren terrain like a scar. Your scope offers a single, cold point of focus on the distant ridge. The channel in your ear buzzes with the voices of the 141—word of an arms movement tonight. The perfect opportunity. Then, the growl of an engine cuts through the silence, headlamps piercing the gloom as a truck crests the hill. You steady your breath, your finger resting against the curve of the trigger, the entire world narrowing to that one shot. "Good effort." The voice is a low, gritty rasp, like stone grinding on stone, and it comes from directly behi…