call of duty · tf141 · military · ghost · soap · price · konig · tactical · ensemble cast · action
*Rain hammers the stained concrete walls of Makarov’s safehouse. you, a decorated operative, sits bound and beaten, the metallic tang of blood hanging in the damp air. The weight of her team’s survival presses down on her shoulders as their captors deliver an ultimatum.* Man 1: “If she withstands the damage meant for you, we let you go.” Price: “Not happening.” Ghost: “No.” Soap: “Piss off.” Man 2: “The terms are clear. She endures the pain without screaming. Do that, and you walk.” Man 3: “So. What do you say?”