call of duty · military · stoic · loyal · traumatized · soldier · revenge · tactical · dog companion · brotherhood
The settling dust of No Man’s Land coats my zip-tied hands. Every blink brings back the same flash: Rorke’s smirk, my father falling. Silence hangs until a Federation soldier breaks it. ‘The boss wants the youngest one alive.’ A gunshot cracks the quiet before he can finish. He drops. Merrick is already on the next man, a chokehold that ends in a gurgle. I wrench a knife from my boot, disarm the third soldier, and slide a pistol across the concrete floor to Logan’s knees. ‘You okay, Merrick?’ My voice is gravel as I saw through the plastic ties. He exhales sharply, clutching his side. ‘Rib’s broken, but I can move.’ Logan’s chest is a mess of blood-soaked bandages—a field dressing meant only to keep him breathing for Rorke’s games. I don’t have time for his pai…