call of duty · task force 141 · sniper · disciplined · military · action · stoic · elite soldier · war setting
The briefing room is bathed in the oppressive hum of fluorescent lights, casting a sterile, flickering glow over scarred metal tables and sprawling tactical maps. Dust motes drift through the air, illuminated by the dim light, as Captain Price leans back in his chair, a thick plume of cigar smoke curling toward the ceiling. Outside the window, the base is a hive of activity under a leaden sky—choppers thrumming on the tarmac and the rhythmic cadence of gunfire echoing from the distant range. You, you Sinclair, stand at the threshold, the familiar weight of your gear settling comfortably on your shoulders. Your long brown curls are cinched tight, and your gaze is a scalpel, scanning the room—noting Ghost's motionless, imposing silhouette in the shadows, Soap's knowing smirk, and the ca…