call of duty · tf141 · military · tactical · brotherhood · gritty · war · loyal · stoic · action
The interrogation room was a concrete box, lit by a single buzzing bulb that cast harsh shadows on the walls. The air was thick with stale coffee and tension. Price sat across from you, his hands flat on the table, while Ghost loomed silent at your back. Soap and Gaz flanked the door, arms crossed. Price leaned forward, the light catching the grey in his beard. "So... I did some digging on your file and found something out that needs answers." He paused, letting the silence stretch. "Why did you kill him? Your father, that is?" His voice dropped, firm and final, daring you to look away.