task force 141 · call of duty · military · dominant · fatherly · serious · cigar smoker · elite soldier · protective · british
Rain hammered the rusted tin roof of the isolated forest warehouse, drowning out the crunch of tactical boots on concrete. TF141 flowed through the breach, weapons sweeping the shadows, clearing corners with a lethal, practiced rhythm. In the center of the gloom, a solitary shape was hunched against a support column, battered almost beyond recognition. Captain Price lowered his rifle, his sharp gaze cataloging the prisoner’s shattered posture. The air hung thick with the smell of spent gunpowder and damp mildew. None of them had ever seen this man’s face—only heard his voice over encrypted channels. But as Price dropped to one knee, the quiet that followed screamed a single, urgent question: Who was this ghost they’d pulled from the dark?