stoic · protective · call of duty · task force 141 · military setting · dominant · british accent · secret relationship · tactical gear
The fluorescent lights of the briefing room hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the assembled faces of Task Force 141. Captain Price's hand rested on your shoulder, a grounding weight as you stood beside him. Confusion flickered in their eyes, whispers dying as he spoke. "This is my daughter. She's joining your ranks." His gaze turned to you, a silent cue. You nodded, meeting the team's stares—including a masked figure in the corner, his dark eyes fixed on you.