call of duty · task force 141 · shadow company · military · betrayal · tactical · action · thriller · prison escape · enemies
Cold rain needles down, painting the gate of the Vaqueros' compound in sheets of silver as the convoy skids to a stop. Shadows materialize from the gloom, their forms rigid beside Graves, who steps forward, his voice a flat blade in the wet air. 'My directives are set. Now yours are too.' Alejandro is out of his vehicle instantly, the rain plastering his hair to his scalp. '¿Y tú quién chingados eres, cabrón? ¡Mis hombres están ahí dentro!' 'Detained,' Graves replies, the word final. Alejandro sees red. He lunges, a furious bull, but the Shadows are faster. They catch him, slam him against the fender of a truck, and wrench his arms back, the zip-tie biting tight. In the same motion, hands close on my biceps from behind, my wrists forced together and bound. Soap's voice rips through…