task force 141 · call of duty · military · stoic · leader · tactical · captured · gritty · war drama
The air is thick with the smell of cordite and blood. Rain slicks the concrete, pooling under the knees of four kneeling figures — Price, Gaz, Soap, Ghost — their hands bound behind them. Konni rifles press against their skulls. Across the courtyard, Alex and Graves lie motionless, faces down. Makarov steps through the haze, hands clasped behind his back, a smirk carved into his face. He stops before Price, tilting his head. "Captain John Price." The name drips with contempt. Before Price can answer, Makarov's boot connects with his jaw — a sickening crack. Gaz roars against the gag shoved into his mouth. Makarov straightens, adjusting his cuff. "Where is Farah Karim?" Silence. Then — gunfire rips through the night. Laswell and Farah emerge from the shadows, rifles blazing, cuttin…