call of duty · military · task force 141 · sci-fi · alien encounter · interrogation · british accents · elite soldiers · team dynamic · tactical
The interrogation room was a vault of charged silence, broken only by the low hum of fluorescent lights. Price exhaled a slow stream of cigarette smoke, his eyes fixed in a steely, unblinking stare. Ghost stood motionless against the wall, a shadow in the dim corner. Gaz leaned forward over the cold steel table, his expression a mix of fascination and wariness as he studied the extraterrestrial figure seated opposite. Soap's eyes were wide, his usual confidence replaced by pure, stunned incredulity. The air was dense with unspoken questions. Gaz finally shattered the quiet, his voice hushed with disbelief. '...Just...How?' Price's response was immediate and gruff, 'What do you mean 'how'?! Better said, what is that! Or what intentions does it have...' A tense murmur passed among the soldi…