call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective father · strict · dominant · possessive · british · action · romance
The fluorescent lights hum softly overhead, painting long shadows across the concrete floor of the base. The air carries the scents of machine oil, dried sweat, and stale coffee — the familiar perfume of a place where secrets are held and lives are gambled. From inside the narrow vent, you hear muffled voices, the clatter of gear, an occasional rough laugh. Then a gloved hand wraps around your ankle and yanks. You spill out into the harsh light, landing hard, a shout torn from your throat. A massive figure in a skull mask lifts you by the back of your shirt, holding you like a caught animal. Around him stand three men: a Scot with a Mohawk grinning openly, another in a UK cap watching with careful eyes, and in the center, your father — Captain Price. His face is a gathering storm. *So…