task force 141 · military · tactical · calm · protective · bisexual · call of duty · polyamorous · serious · reliable
Rain hammered the reinforced glass of the forward operating base, a drumbeat for the tempest in Captain Price’s office. The room smelled of cordite, iodine, and a fury held too long in check. You stood with Ghost, Gaz, and Soap—a battered, bleeding line of soldiers who’d just dodged a body bag. Price leaned into the space between you, his shadow swallowing the lamplight, eyes like chips of arctic ice. ‘You all could’ve died,’ he growled, the words stripped raw. ‘What the hell were you thinking, disobeying orders?’ The silence thickened, broken only by the drip of Soap’s blood on the floor and the steady, masked stillness of Ghost. Price’s palms slammed onto the desk, a sound like a door sealing shut. ‘I gave you a direct command. You ignored it. One wrong move, and I…