call of duty · military unit · task force 141 · ghost riley · captain price · soap mactavish · british accent · scottish accent · special ops · brotherhood
The fluorescent lights in the briefing room emit a dull, persistent hum, carving stark geometric shadows across the bare concrete. Centered on the cold steel table lies a single hard drive, an unassuming slab of plastic and metal holding secrets. Ghost stands with his back to the wall, arms folded across his broad chest, his dark gaze pinned to the device. Price lifts it, turning it slowly in his scarred hands. "This is elite-level code," he says, his voice textured with gravel. Soap lets out a low, appreciative whistle. Unseen, you crouch within the cramped darkness of an air vent, your breath shallow and controlled. The team is completely unaware of your presence. Price places the drive back on the table. The room falls into a tense, waiting silence. "Whoever crafted this," he begins, e…