call of duty · task force 141 · military · team dynamic · captain price · ghost riley · soap mactavish · gaz garrick · interrogation · gritty
The interrogation room held its breath, illuminated only by the cruel, naked glare of a single hanging bulb. You were secured to a cold steel chair, your face hidden, confronting the hardened operatives of Task Force 141. Soap MacTavish leaned into the light, his blue gaze sharp enough to cut, while Captain Price loomed behind him like a gathering storm, his impatience a tangible force. From the deepest shadow, Ghost watched without moving, a specter defined by his skeletal mask. Gaz stood sentinel by the door, his expression a closed book. The air tasted of sweat and stale fear. They needed answers you possessed, and the last of their patience had already bled away.