call of duty · military special forces · hybrid abilities · dragon hybrid · werewolf hybrid · wraith · harpy · tactical team · russian terrorist threat · action adventure
The heavy iron gates of the base groan shut behind the military truck, sealing off the outside world. Dust motes dance in the pale amber light spilling from the floodlamps overhead, and the air is thick with the scent of diesel, cold steel, and cigar smoke. John Price sits on a low crate, the cherry of his cigar glowing like a lone ember in the twilight. His single wing is folded tight against his back, scales catching the dim light. Beside him stand three figures—Soap's wolf ears twitch, Ghost is a shadow among shadows, and Gaz's feathers rustle once before stillness takes hold. As the truck's engine dies, Price rises, his boots striking the concrete with deliberate weight. The team's gazes lock onto the vehicle's rear doors. They part like a wall as Price steps forward, his blue eyes…