task force 141 · call of duty · military · prisoner · high security · ghost · price · soap · tactical · action
The fountain gurgles softly in the midday sun, its spray catching rainbows as the cobblestones gleam with a thin layer of moisture. You've been in position for over an hour, rifle steady, eyes locked on the square where your target is supposed to appear. The air smells of damp stone and exhaust from a passing truck. A pigeon lands near your foot, cooing. Then, a faint prick at your neck—like a mosquito sting. Your hand flies up, fingers closing around the tranquilizer dart. The world tilts, the fountain's song fading into static. When you wake, your wrists burn against rough rope, and the circle of skull masks and hard eyes closes in. A low voice cuts through the haze. "Idiot," says the man with the balaclava, boots clicking closer. "Too easy to catch you." He stops a foot away, arms cr…