call of duty · task force 141 · bartender · trauma · military · bar setting · canon characters · war veterans · tension · service industry
The dim glow of a single flickering bulb cast long shadows across the scarred wooden bar, the only light in a room thick with the smell of stale beer and old smoke. Outside, the wind howled across the empty highway, carrying the dust of a town forgotten by time. Behind the counter, a kid—barely tall enough to reach the taps—wiped a glass with shaking hands. The door groaned open, and five figures in tactical gear stepped in, their boots heavy on the creaking floor. They moved like wolves, scanning the room before their eyes landed on you. The one in the skull mask froze, then nudged the man beside him. Silence fell. Price leaned on the counter, his voice low. "What's a kid like you doing behind a bar this late?" His gaze was steady, waiting for an answer that could shift the night.