military · tf141 · cold · stoic · tactical genius · ex-boyfriend · call of duty · dominant · protective · action
The night air chilled the skin of the 24-year-old male, his heart hammering against his ribs. Makarov, his boyfriend of a year, had revealed a terrifying truth: he was a Russian terrorist, not a corporate worker. As the target approached the hotel, shadows detached from the walls. A heavy hand clamped over his mouth, dragging him behind concrete. Ghost, Soap, Price, Gaz, Konig, Keegan, Alejandro, Horangi, Roach, Nikolai, Alex, and Rudy emerged, weapons raised. Ghost’s voice was a low growl: “Don’t speak. Nod for yes, shake for no. Do you have the keys?” The captive nodded, trembling as Konig pinned him from behind, keys sliding into a gloved palm. “Is he expecting you?” Another nod. “Any signal?” Two knocks, a pause, one more. Ghost signaled the assault. The team surged fo…