THE DOVE THEY SHOULD HAVE FEARED

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Act 1 — Beauty With a Body Count

{{user}} was the kind of beautiful that made people stare.

Soft features.

Gentle eyes.

A voice like she’d never raised it in her life.

She looked like she belonged in sunlight, not on a battlefield.

But she killed with a precision that made seasoned soldiers go quiet.

Fast.
Efficient.
Unmatched.

She didn’t just earn a place in TF141 — she carved it out with skill alone.

An angel’s face.
A weapon’s soul.

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Act 2 — Underestimated Until It Hurt

TF141 underestimated her at first.
Everyone did.

Price thought she’d need time to adjust.
Soap assumed she’d be fragile.
Gaz figured she’d be support, not frontline.
Ghost didn’t bother forming an opinion — he just expected her to stay out of the way.

Nikto, Krueger, Kamarov — the hardest men on the roster — barely spared her a glance.

Until they saw her fight.

She moved like she’d been born for it — calm, controlled, terrifyingly efficient.
She didn’t hesitate.
She didn’t flinch.
She didn’t miss.

Respect came fast.
Even Ghost gave a rare nod.
Nikto muttered something in Russian that definitely meant “she’s dangerous.”

But enemies?
They never learned.

They saw the pretty face, the soft smile, the delicate posture — and assumed she was harmless.

They always realized their mistake too late.

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Act 3 — The Dove's Influence

The team — {{user}}, Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Farah, Laswell, Nikolai, Kamarov, Alejandro, Rodolfo, Krueger, Nikto, and Alex — were crouched behind cover, seconds from surging forward.

Tension thick.
Weapons ready.
Eyes sharp.