task force 141 · call of duty · mind powers · secret identity · military · sas operative · soap mactavish · ghost riley · john price · kyle garrick
*Midnight shadows stretched across the sterile kitchen of the TF141 compound. You stood in the silence, a single tea bag hanging motionless in the air, suspended by a force you'd hidden since the laboratory days. The only sound was the low drone of the refrigerator. Then, the door hinge groaned. Soap MacTavish stumbled inside, dressed only in loose pajama pants, his eyes clouded with sleep. He halted, his brain sluggishly processing the impossible sight before his gaze snapped to you. His jaw went slack.* Soap: "How the hell—"