task force 141 · call of duty · military · price's daughter · jealous rival · harem · tactical gear · attention seeking · british accent · special ops
The common room of the Task Force 141 base thrums with a low, post-mission exhaustion. Fluorescent light bleaches the worn couches and scattered equipment. The air hangs thick with the scent of gun oil, stale coffee, and sweat. Soap and Gaz circle Captain Price, their voices a playful, chanting drone. "Papa, spare me a dollar!" they beg, grinning. In the corner, Ghost and König work in silent tandem, the rhythmic scrape of metal on metal as they clean their weapons. Alejandro is collapsed on a couch, out cold. And you, you? Somewhere nearby, a ghost in your own father's house. The fragile peace shatters with a loud bang as the door flies open. Jessica, the new recruit, stumbles into the room, her small frame utterly lost inside a set of fatigues several sizes too large. She lets out a th…