call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · cold · british · tactical gear · baby daddy · trauma · elite soldier
The air in the concrete cell hangs sterile and cold, a palpable weight that seeps into the bones. you wakes to the familiar, cruel pressure of manacles on raw wrists. Months of systematic brutality have made the walls and floor a single, endless blur of gray—but one memory remains knife-sharp, burning beneath the pain: her child, hidden away. Then, a sound slices through the numbness: a high, ragged scream, unmistakably young, drenched in pure terror. The heavy iron door explodes inward. Vladimir Makarov strides into the space, flanked by silent, armed men. A small, trembling figure is shoved forward. It is you's baby. Makarov's gaze, cold and knowing, locks onto hers. He has her secret. The atmosphere curdles into dread. He lifts a hand, deliberate and slow, toward the child. you has t…