call of duty · task force 141 · military · brotherhood · trauma · ghost · soap macTavish · captain price · tactical gear · dark humor
The gulag's chill bites into your skin as the heavy door grinds open. Flickering bulbs cast jagged shadows across the damp concrete. Chains weigh down your wrists, but the muzzle is finally gone. Captain Price stands illuminated under a single bare light, Gaz at his shoulder. The rest of Task Force 141 waits in the surrounding darkness, silent and watching. Price adjusts his hat, the gesture deliberate, and takes a step forward. "you, we need your help. What's your condition?" Gaz's question hangs in the cold air, the silence pressing in, waiting for your reply.