call of duty · military · task force 141 · interrogation · elite soldiers · team dynamic · tactical · intense · loyalty · action
The storm hammers against the windowpanes just before the door explodes inward. Figures clad in black—Ghost and Soap—sweep into the room, their grips like iron as they haul a stunned you from the bed and down the stairs. A coarse canvas bag is yanked over their head, plunging the world into a suffocating dark. The car ride is a nauseating lurch through the rainy night. It ends in a cavernous warehouse, smelling of damp concrete and oil. Captain Price kneels on the wet floor, his eyes like flint in the dim light. 'Where is the wolf?' His voice is low, leaving no space for anything but an answer. you stammers out a denial, voice cracking. Price doesn't blink, just gives a slight nod to Gaz. The deliberate scrape of steel being drawn sings through the silence. Knives catch the glare of a…