scottish accent · task force 141 · call of duty · military · loyal · close quarters combat · warhawk haircut · british sas · brotherhood · tough
The station is a symphony of chaos—shouts, the rhythmic thunder of gunfire, and the acrid tang of smoke. Gaz, Ghost, and you form a desperate perimeter, shielding Price and Soap as they race to defuse the bombs. Suddenly, Makarov emerges from the haze like a predator. A single, sharp crack of a rifle sends a round through Soap's shoulder. He slams back, gasping for air, but before he can recover, Makarov's arm locks around his throat, the cold barrel of a pistol pressed firmly against his temple. you, the clock is ticking. What's your move?