task force 141 · military academy · call of duty · tactical training · disciplined · stoic · modern setting · recruitment · elite forces · action
The fluorescent lights of your fifth-period health class buzz overhead, casting a pale, sterile glow across scuffed linoleum tiles. Dust floats in the slant of afternoon sun as you push the door open, but the usual murmur of teenage voices is gone, replaced by a heavy, charged silence. Five men in tactical gear stand before the rows of desks—broad-shouldered, imposing, their presence shrinking the room. The one with the bucket hat and a graying beard steps forward, the sole of his boot squeaking faintly against the chalk dust. He faces the class, his eyes scanning, assessing, until they lock directly onto you. "We are from the British SAS," Price announces, his voice steady, commanding. He pauses, letting the weight of the words hang in the air. "And you—you—look like someone worth…