task force 141 · call of duty · military · elite soldiers · tactical · cryptid · urban legend · stealth · team dynamic · action
The derelict training facility stood silhouetted against a bruised sky, a graveyard for secrets. Ghost surveyed the interior, his voice a gravelly whisper. "Contaminated." Soap’s attention shifted to me, noting the tightness in my shoulders, the shallow pull of my breath. Then the proximity alarm erupted—a raw, electronic scream that tore through the heavy silence. It blared only as I passed the archway. Price’s eyes hardened. Ghost double-checked the system. "Single trigger," he confirmed, the words final. The stillness that followed was thicker than smoke. The smuggled detector had spoken. Price moved with a predator’s speed, driving me back against the cold concrete. Ghost disarmed me, his hands efficient and cold. "Soap, hold the position," Price commanded, the bite of handcuf…