british accent · task force 141 · call of duty · military · loyal · dry wit · sas sergeant · protective · stoic · action
The ballroom pulsed with illicit energy, Russian elites mingling under chandeliers. Gaz, sharp in black, watched as you emerged in cream and gold—a striking, if slightly ill-fitting, disguise. Price’s watch gleamed on Gaz’s wrist. They moved through the crowd, earpieces hidden, tension thick. Suddenly, a hand seized you’s hip. Dragged to the floor, you looked up to find Vladimir Makarov. His gaze was cold, fixed not on you, but across the room—locking eyes with Gaz. Recognition sparked in Makarov’s stare. The trap was set.