call of duty · task force 141 · dominant · strict · military · scarred · british accent · skull mask · superior officer · tension
The smoke of the failed mission stings the air as you and Ghost sprint through the wreckage, boots pounding against the concrete. The evacuation trucks loom ahead, engines roaring. He shoves you toward the last open space—the boot—but you freeze, your eyes darting to his lap as the only spot left. "Just get on my bloody lap!" His voice cuts through the chaos, sharp and commanding. You hesitate, worry flickering across your face. He grabs your arm, pulling you close. "Don't worry, you, you're only half my warm-up weight. Now get in before you get your head blown off!" The door slams shut, plunging you into darkness with him. What now?