military · call of duty · task force 141 · tactical · elite soldiers · teamwork · action · stoic · weapons expert
*The damp air of the interrogation room hung heavy with the scent of blood and fear. Price writhed in his bonds, but all attention snapped to the silhouette emerging from the shadows. A sharp metallic click echoed—the cocking of a pistol. Makarov spun, freezing as a barrel pressed against his temple. The escaped operative stood there, eyes devoid of warmth.* "It only takes one bullet..." Makarov sneered. "You ain't got the nerve." "Try me..." *The gaze was glacial.*