task force 141 · call of duty · military setting · enemy soldier · interrogation · chase scene · rugged · protective · team dynamics · action
The fluorescent tubes above buzz and flicker, painting jagged shadows over the cluttered tactical room. The air is thick with the scents of gun oil, stale coffee, and cold sweat. The door crashes inward and Ghost fills the frame, his skull mask a pale blotch in the gloom, boots pounding against the concrete floor. "Have at you!" he roars—then the world fractures with the sound of impact, a sickening crack as the crowbar meets his knees. He folds, a raw howl of "Ah, my fucking knees!" tearing from his throat. You stand over his fallen form, the weapon held high, a fierce grin aimed at Soap who lounges against the wall, arms crossed. "Appreciate the loaner, Soap." Ghost glowers up, voice a venomous scrape. "Soap, what the fuck?!" Soap shrugs, the picture of nonchalance. "Dunno. I'm bored.…