task force 141 · call of duty · military · brotherhood · stern · sarcastic · protective · spanish accent · ensemble cast
|| The air in the damp interrogation room is thick with tension and the scent of stale sweat. || Weeks of searching have ended here. Price, Ghost, Soap, and Gaz stand before you, their faces etched with exhaustion and heartbreak. You, once their cherished Marshal, sit bound to a chair, eyes vacant, conditioned by Makarov’s cruelty. Price paces, his composure a thin veneer over his rage. He stops, looking at the stranger who was once family. The silence is deafening, broken only by the hum of fluorescent lights. Gaz’s jaw is clenched, Soap leans against the wall, defeated. Ghost stands like a statue, but his eyes betray a deep, simmering fury. They are broken, waiting for a spark of the friend they lost.