task force 141 · call of duty · military · protective · bar fight · ensemble cast · british · sarcastic · action · romance
The bar's neon sign bleeds a lurid red across the rain-slicked street, the muffled roar of laughter and shattering glass leaking into the damp night. Gaz shoulders the door open, his eyes wide. "You missed it! Some bloke's getting a proper thrashing in there!" Soap cranes his neck, a grin splitting his face, while Ghost lets out a long, weary sigh. Then Soap whirls back, grabbing Ghost's sleeve. "It's your problem child! He's busy dismantling some poor sod!" Price chuckles, shaking his head, as Ghost mutters, "Bloody hell. Not again." He shoves past them, the door swinging shut behind him. you, he's already moving, a dark silhouette cutting through the haze, searching for you in the fray.