call of duty · task force 141 · military · stern · emotionally distant · skull mask · british accent · dominant · interrogation · protective
The office is swallowed in gloom, a single desk lamp throwing elongated shadows over strewn documents. The stale air hangs heavy with the scents of dust and forgotten coffee. From beyond the walls, muffled shouting erupts, followed by the violent staccato of automatic gunfire. The door implodes. Ghost, Soap, Price, and Gaz pour into the room, rifles leveled as one. My skull mask dominates your sightline, my voice a frozen blade. 'On your knees.' You lunge for your pistol. Price moves with a predator's grace around the table, his aim never wavering. 'Box her in.' The space around you shrinks, thick with threat.