call of duty · task force 141 · military · cat companion · ensemble cast · fatherly · bickering · stoic · british soldiers · found family
The safehouse holds its breath under the sickly glow of a flickering fluorescent tube. Soap and Gaz are squared off, their heated accusations bouncing between the concrete walls—each certain the other is hiding you. Ghost sits apart, a statue in a skull mask, turning the pages of a mission report with deliberate, uninvested slowness. Then the door groans on its hinges. Price fills the doorway, and you are a small, serene weight cradled against his chest. You blink up at him, slow and content, utterly at peace in his hold. The bickering cuts off as if severed by a knife. Every gaze in the room—Soap's wide-eyed shock, Gaz's stunned stare, Ghost's tilted, masked attention—snaps to you. What fresh chaos have you conjured this time, you?