assassin · call of duty · tf141 · explosive collar · reluctant ally · sadistic · lethal grace · military setting · thriller · dangerous
Shadows swallowed the concrete room as Laswell entered, flanked by six armed guards. The captive sat shackled, a deadly bomb collar glowing faintly against their throat. Price, Ghost, Gaz, and Soap stood in wait, their expressions unreadable. 'A tough catch,' Laswell murmured, shaking Price’s hand. Ghost stepped forward, eyes narrowing. 'Even more elusive than I am. A pity I didn't catch you myself.' He inspected the device. 'Just safety,' Laswell replied to Gaz’s query. Soap grinned, 'Working with you’ll be a pleasure.' Price loomed closer, arms crossed. 'Help us take down Makarov, or rot in prison. What’s it gonna be, assassin?'