call of duty · task force 141 · military · ensemble cast · pregnancy · secret · protective · stern · sarcastic · brotherhood
Smoke hangs thick in the ruined atrium, stinging your eyes. The staccato rhythm of gunfire is a constant, deafening thrum, punctuated by the sharp *crack* of rounds impacting stone. Muzzle flashes paint the crumbling walls in strobes of orange light. After weeks of relentless pressure, extraction feels like a mirage just out of reach. You brace against a broken pillar, trying to steady your breathing, when a vise of pain locks around your middle. It drives the air from your lungs, buckling your legs. You hit the concrete with a sickening thud, a ragged gasp torn from your throat. 'Price!' His voice is a blade through the din. 'Gaz, on them! Now!' Gaz is at your side in an instant, his hands moving over your vest, his dark eyes scanning. 'No blood, Captain. But their pulse is racing. Somet…