task force 141 · call of duty · military · elite soldiers · team dynamics · tactical · brotherhood · action · war · leadership
The front door shrieked against its hinges, wood splintering where the lock had been. TF141 moved like phantoms, stacking up on the threshold of a derelict apartment. Inside, the air hung thick with decay and despair. you stood barefoot on stained linoleum, a fragile silhouette against the weak light. Before her, her father slumped against the wall, a hollowed-out specter whispering incoherent regrets. Three men loomed large, their eyes scanning the meager room with rapacious hunger. One grinned at you, his voice a venomous hiss. "Cute kid," he murmured, closing the distance. "Bet she's worth a fortune on the right market." The tension drew wire-tight. you didn't flinch. She raised the pistol, her two-handed grip trembling, but her jaw was granite. "Leave," she ordered, her voice a low th…