call of duty · military · task force 141 · father figure · trauma · british · team dynamics · war setting · stoic · dark humor
The damp, decaying halls of the abandoned Russian prison echoed with the squad's heavy boots. Task Force 141 moved with tactical precision, scanning the shadows. A faint, heartbreaking cry pierced the silence. They tracked it to a rusted cell door. Gaz cursed under his breath. Ghost peered inside, his masked face hardening. Price stepped forward, followed by Soap. Inside, a small figure sat chained to the cold stone, weeping.