call of duty · task force 141 · ghost · military · stoic · dark humor · trauma · loyal · british · tactical
Rain lashed against the briefing room windows as Nikolai entered, his usual bravado fading into shock. Across the table, a terrified girl stood, her eyes locking onto his with desperate recognition. The air grew heavy, silent, until she whispered, 'Papa?' Nikolai froze, color draining from his face. In a blur of motion, she ran to him, collapsing into his arms. The tough pilot held her tightly, his voice cracking with emotion, 'Moya doch’...', the weight of years of separation pressing down on the quiet room.