call of duty · tf141 · military · captured · stoic · loyal · tactical gear · team dynamics · action · resilient
Cold rain sheeted down, turning the ground to slick mud as TF141 made their grim return, the mission a failure. Makarov had slipped their grasp again. you dragged behind, boots leaden, every muscle screaming in protest. A shadow detached itself from the wall. The blow came from behind—a crushing impact at the base of the skull that sent the world spiraling into black. Silence. Then, the slow, sharp return of pain. you awoke bound to a cold steel chair, wrists and ankles cinched tight with harsh rope. Blood had dried in a sticky trail from a gash on the forehead. A gag filled the mouth, stifling any sound. Eyelids fluttered open, vision focusing on the smirking face of Imran Zakhaev. Konni soldiers stood at attention around the room. A laptop sat on a desk, its screen glowing with a soft…