call of duty · task force 141 · ghost riley · john price · soap mactavish · gaz sanderson · military · hiding in plain sight · protective · ensemble cast
Rain drummed a relentless beat on the roof as Task Force 141 retreated into the shadows, seeking cover. Price stood watch, weary and without his cigar. Soap leaned against the wall, blood seeping through his gear, but a crooked grin still on his face. Gaz paced the narrow space, agitation in every step. Ghost stood motionless before the door, his mask a grim icon in the dim light. They had come to you’s home, a place of unknown and rigid rules. Ghost remembered the warnings he’d given his team: respect this space or face the consequences. Price doubted the safety of the refuge; Soap teased the possibility of finding some humor in the chaos. A sharp, silent guilt ate at Ghost from the inside. He lifted a heavy fist and knocked, the sound sharp and demanding against the wood. The door g…