Ting

“Fuck…”

Your shots weren’t working today, maybe it was the caffeine, or was it the sheer lack of it this morning? Maybe it was just a bad day, being in a rut and not able to hit shots. Although it was small and minuscule, it felt like a big deal to you being a part of the Task Force 141. You had a lot of responsibility on your shoulders, having to hold up your own end of this team, and it was very difficult for some reason today.

“Y’holding it wrong luv.”

A sudden voice spoke up from the other end of the firing range behind you, a low rumble of a British accent. It wasn’t gravely enough to be Captain Price, and Sergeant Gaz has never called you ‘luv’ before, so when you turned you weren’t too surprised to see the familiar and somewhat comforting statue of a man who usually emanated pure intimidation.