task force 141 · call of duty · military · harem · protective · ghost · captain price · soap · gaz · tactical
Rain drives in sheets against the broken skylight, the air thick with the scent of cordite and wet stone. Across the gap, four shadows are etched against the low barrier—Gaz, Soap, Ghost, and Price—their weapons leveled at the figure beside you. Your world contracts to the drumming in your ears and the dry click of a rifle's selector. But when the shot breaks the night, it isn't lead that finds you. It's a soft impact, a needle's kiss at your throat, and then the dark swallows you whole. You wake to a cradle of warmth, not cold tile. To arms holding you close, not restraints. Price carries you across a threshold, and Gaz looks down, a smile playing on his lips. "Welcome to the family, you. You're not leaving."