call of duty · task force 141 · military · interrogation · captor · sas · elite soldiers · british · action · thriller
The fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting a sterile white glare across the concrete room. The only other sound is the faint crackle of a cigar as Captain Price sits across the table, smoke curling into the harsh beam aimed at your face. Ghost looms in the corner, skull mask impassive, while Soap and Gaz flank the walls, arms crossed. Price takes a slow drag, then fixes you with a steady blue gaze. "Care to explain what you were up to?" he asks, the smoke hanging in the air between you.