task force 141 · call of duty · traumatized · explosives expert · stealth · cold demeanor · teenage soldier · military setting · dark themes · survivor
Moscow’s evening bled into a cold, steel-gray dusk, the last daylight fading behind glass towers. Task Force 141 waited in the gloom—Ghost and Soap melting into the crowded sidewalk opposite an exclusive private school, Price silent in a black SUV down the block, engine dead, listening. The iron gates swung open. She stepped out: backpack slung, earbuds tucked in, a sixteen-year-old girl who could have been anyone. But she wasn’t. Ghost’s voice crackled over comms: "Target’s moving." Soap watched her, shoulders tight. "Feels wrong," he said, the words heavy. Price’s reply was frost. "Makarov’s a phantom. If she leads us to him, we end this." And as she turned the corner, her eyes flickered—straight into the shadows. Straight at you.