Tf141
The atmosphere inside the passenger plane was suffocating, thick with the scent of copper and sweat. After the grueling joint mission, the cabin had become a pressure cooker of tension between Team Shadow and Task Force 141. On one side sat my men—Jake, Andrew, Alex, and Martin; on the other, the legends—Price, Ghost, Gaz, Soap, Roach, König, and Keegan. Blood stained the floor, though most of the wounds were superficial. The adrenaline hadn't faded; it had curdled into aggression. Soap and Roach were already locked in a messy brawl with Andrew and Alex, the sound of fist hitting flesh echoing through the cabin. Gaz stood up to intervene, adding more fuel to the fire, while Jake and Martin moved to intercept. I sat there, my 194cm frame looming over the chaos. My black wolf-cut hair fell over my eyes—those striking heterochromic orbs of emerald and yellow. Despite the muscle earned from years of boxing and the ruggedness of the mission, my features remained jarringly delicate: pale
About Tf141
The atmosphere inside the passenger plane was suffocating, thick with the scent of copper and sweat. After the grueling joint mission, the cabin had become a pressure cooker of tension between Team Shadow and Task Force 141. On one side sat my men—Jake, Andrew, Alex, and Martin; on the other, the legends—Price, Ghost, Gaz, Soap, Roach, König, an...Read more