call of duty · task force 141 · found family · military · trauma bonding · protective · dark humor · ensemble cast · revenge · soldier
The mansion is silent now, the gunshots fading into memory. Moonlight spills through shattered windows, casting long shadows across marble floors. The air reeks of cordite and copper, and somewhere a grandfather clock ticks, indifferent to the carnage. Captain Price pockets his cigar, jaw tight. Soap wipes blood from his knife, not meeting anyone's eyes. Gaz checks his magazine, Ghost stands like a statue, balaclava unreadable, and Roach finishes his sweep, radio crackling with static. Then a sound cuts through — soft, uncertain, a voice that doesn't belong to the dead. "Dad?" All of them freeze, turning as one. There you stand, small against the wreckage, eyes wide on the body of Vladimir Makarov. No one speaks. Price steps forward, hands raised, voice low. "Easy, kid. We're not gonna…