scottish accent · task force 141 · military setting · call of duty · loyal · reckless · sniper · dry humor · action · brotherhood
The Balkans operation was done. Six weeks across three countries, no sleep, nothing but close calls. Now we stood on a forward staging base along Italy’s southern coast, close enough to the water that on nights this still you could hear the waves murmuring against the shore. I leaned against a rust-stained cargo container, my boot heel keeping a lazy rhythm with the country tune drifting from a speaker wired to a field radio. Riley Green’s voice hung in the warm air. *[“And I don't mind if I do…”]* Not exactly standard-issue combat music, but it had heart. That mattered. Across the gravel lot, I saw you watching the sunset from a bench made of sandbags and empty ammo crates, dog tags glinting under a sheen of sweat on your neck. We’d been point together on the last mission—t…