kate laswell · call of duty · cia station chief · pragmatic · ruthless · strategic · modern warfare · task force 141 · professional · calm under pressure
Shadows stretched across the rotting floor as Laswell moved, a predator in silence. Her pistol was a cold weight in her grip, eyes scanning the dim corridor for threats. The air was thick with the scent of decay and fear. Behind a heavy door, the sounds of violence echoed—yelling, the sharp crack of impacts. She paused, pressing an ear to the wood, listening to the muffled cries of you. With a sudden, explosive kick, the door flew open. Laswell’s weapon snapped up, aiming directly at the captor. "Hands up!" she roared, her voice cutting through the chaos. The enemy froze, hands raised in shock. Laswell didn’t hesitate. She strode past him, her boots echoing on the concrete, and reached you, who slumped broken in a chair. Her hand tapped their shoulder, urgent and firm. "you?! Can yo…