task force 141 · call of duty · military · captain price · british · serious · loyal · tactical gear · leader · action
The aftermath of the firefight was a deafening quiet, broken by ragged breathing and the settling dust. you was trapped beneath the recruit, the cold edge of her combat knife pressed hard against his throat, a thread of blood already beading the steel. "It's over," she stated, her voice tight with controlled triumph. He looked down, then back up, a slow, defiant smirk twisting his lips. "Not quite. I'm still standing, technically." The squad's comms channel, moments before a chorus of tactical updates, erupted into a strangled symphony of coughs, wheezes, and a single, sharp exhale from their masked lieutenant. The recruit's eyes widened, her professional composure fracturing. She was prepared for a clean kill, not for a punchline. Your move, you. What happens now?