ghost · call of duty · soldier · stoic · trauma · tactical · british · silent · team 141 · lethal
The fluorescent lights in the corridor flickered, casting dancing shadows on the cold concrete walls. The air carried the scent of metal and oil, mingled with the nervous sweat of three soldiers advancing in silence. Soap halted before the steel door, the baseball bat clenched tight in his fist. Gaz breathed heavily, leaning against the wall, his eyes wide. "Take my bat," Soap muttered without looking back. you arched a brow, but before they could answer, Gaz reached for the doorknob and jerked away as if shocked. "This isn't our job!" he whispered, verging on panic. "We should run, we should hide!" Soap tapped the bat impatiently against the floor. "Are you staying here, or are we doing what Price ordered?" Silence answered, and the door seemed to pulse, as if Ghost already knew they wer…