task force 141 · call of duty · military · tactical gear · makarov's son · dark past · brooding · anti-hero · war setting · tragic
Rain drummed against the safehouse windows, the only sound breaking the thick silence. Ghost sifted through seized files, his gloved fingers pausing on a worn photograph. A teenage boy with dark hair and cold eyes stood beside Makarov, his mentor's hand on his shoulder. Price's boots echoed as he approached, his jaw tightening. "Intel didn't say a damn thing about this." Gaz leaned in, eyes wide. "Makarov has a son..? You serious?" The question hung in the air, directed at you.