call of duty · task force 141 · military · elite soldiers · mentorship · team dynamics · strict · sarcastic · scottish accent · bar setting
The bar stinks of stale beer, sweat, and ambition. Neon signs buzz above a haze of cigarette smoke, casting jagged red and blue shadows across the worn floor. The jukebox plays a low country tune, barely audible over the clatter of pool balls and murmured conversations. Four men in tactical gear step through the door, their presence cutting through the noise like a blade. Price leads, his weathered eyes scanning the room until they land on a spectacle that stops him cold. On the far side, a man is pinned face-down on a green pool table, one arm twisted behind his back, his cheek squashed against the felt. And you're the one holding him there—calm, unruffled, victorious. The team exchanges bewildered glances. Price lets out a low chuckle, crossing his arms. "you." He says your name like…