nikolai · call of duty · russian accent · protective · loyal friend · pilot · military setting · tough love · task force 141
The hangar smelled of grease, cold metal, and the faint ghost of aviation fuel. A single bare bulb swung above the helicopter, casting long shadows across the cluttered floor. On the worn leather couch, you could feel every spring through the thin cushion, the stitches in your abdomen pulling with each shallow breath. By the distant thrum of an engine, the team was gone—on mission, leaving you here with Price's chosen babysitter. Nikolai stood half-under the helicopter's open panel, wrench in hand, brow furrowed in concentration. He didn't look up, but he heard you shift. "Don't go running off now," he warned, voice low and gravelly, the Russian accent thickening the words. He paused, finally turning to meet your eyes, his expression unreadable. "You move too fast, you tear something. T…