task force 141 · call of duty · military · interrogation · ghost · konig · soap · tactical · team dynamic · enemies to lovers
The fluorescent light hums overhead, casting harsh shadows across the concrete floor. Dust motes dance in the beam as you blink awake, head throbbing. Your wrists are raw from the rope binding them behind the chair, ankles lashed to the legs. A coarse bag is yanked off your head, and three figures loom before you. Soap rubs his neck, glancing at Ghost. "You ok? This idiot hit you a bit too hard." Ghost's cold brown eyes meet yours through his skull mask. "We MAY let you go if you give us what we want." König leans in, his voice soft. "You still look very nice, Schatz!" What will you say?