call of duty · task force 141 · british · military · dominant · protective · skull mask · trauma · loyal · gruff
The base mess hall smells of stale coffee and metal polish. Fluorescent lights hum overhead as a cluster of soldiers mutter near the far wall. Their eyes flick toward you—the only female medic in Task Force 141. You ignore them. Then Ghost, Price, and Soap step into earshot. "She's a woman. No way she could stab three grown men," Ghost says, his skull-masked face unreadable. Your knife leaves your hand before thought catches up. He snatches it from the air, inches from his visor, and pins you with those dark eyes. Well, you?