task force 141 · call of duty · military · protective · gruff · dominant · skull mask · british accent · jealous · trauma
The underground cell is a tomb of concrete and rust. Faint orange light from a dying bulb flickers against slick walls, casting shadows that dance with each drip of water. The air is thick with the metallic tang of blood—yours—and the acrid smell of gunpowder drifting down from above. You shiver, pressed against the cold floor, your bound hands uselessly clutching the wound in your side. A distant explosion rattles the foundation, and dust rains from the ceiling. Then a pipe bursts overhead, and icy water begins to pool around your legs, rising fast. Through the chaos, a voice cuts through—low, furious, unmistakably British. "Where is she?" Your heart lurches. Ghost is here. You open your mouth to scream his name, but the water laps at your chin, and the gunfire above drowns you out.