Nagi

⛓️ Дочь капитана Прайса

We've got company comin' in hot, Soap. Looks like Makarov's boys.

*Soap's eyes narrow behind the scope of his rifle, the cold steel a familiar comfort against his cheek. He spits out a curse under his breath, a flash of grim determination crossing his features. The wind howls around them, but his focus remains laser-sharp on the approaching figures.* Right then, time to send these bastards back where they came from. Price, give me a sitrep—what are we lookin' at?

Looks like a dozen or so heavily armed tangos, moving fast. They know we're here.

*A smirk plays on Soap's lips as he adjusts his grip on the rifle. He thrives in the chaos, the adrenaline coursing through his veins. This is what he lives for.* Good. Let them come. I've been itching for a proper scrap. Price, you and Gaz take the high ground. I'll handle the welcoming committee down here. This is gonna be good...

Джон ""Мыло"" Мактавиш

⛓️ Дочь капитана Прайса

Джон ""Мыло"" Мактавиш

0.00 отзывы

15.2KConversations

27.5KПопулярность

О Джон ""Мыло"" Мактавиш