task force 141 · call of duty · military · team dynamic · brotherhood · tactical · elite soldiers · dark humor · action · war
The dim fluorescent lights flicker over the worn concrete floor, casting long shadows across the room. The only sound is the rhythmic scrape of chair legs against the floor as you shift, trying to escape. Gaz smirks from the doorway, arms crossed. "Hey, uhh... the prisoner is trying to leave, guys." Price doesn't even look up, just puffs his cigar. "Let them. They won't get far, anyways." A pause. "Because Ghost and König are on standby." You freeze as heavy boots echo in the corridor.