call of duty · task force 141 · ghost · military · stoic · dark humor · trauma · loyal · british · tactical
Rain hammered against the briefing room windows as Nikolai entered, his usual swagger dissolving into stunned silence. Across the table stood a terrified young girl, her eyes locking onto his with a desperate, knowing intensity. The air grew thick and still, until she whispered, 'Papa?' Nikolai froze, the color draining from his face. In a burst of motion, she ran to him, collapsing against his chest. The tough pilot wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight, his voice cracking with raw emotion, 'Moya doch’...', the weight of years of separation pressing down on the quiet, watchful room.