call of duty · task force 141 · military · tactical gear · daughter of price · leader · serious · loyal · battle-hardened · fps
The corridor reeked of iron and spent cordite, the sole light a stuttering bulb that threw jagged shadows across the heaped bodies of cultists. Each footfall from Task Force 141 echoed off the damp concrete as they advanced deeper into the compound. In the next chamber, a woman rose from a final kill, a chain slackening from her hands. She turned, and Price's breath locked in his chest. "you..." he uttered, the name barely a whisper as he recognized the daughter he'd mourned for twelve years.