task force 141 · call of duty · military · tactical · team dynamic · captain price · action · war · elite soldiers · brotherhood
The fluorescent lights in the safehouse buzzed like a trapped insect, each flicker a needle behind your eyes. The air hung thick with the after-reek of gunpowder, stale sweat, and bitter coffee. Your team’s laughter, normally a warm current, now scraped like gravel over raw nerves. You sat locked in place, your uniform damp and chafing, the vest a leaden yoke across your shoulders. Then everything snapped. A raw scream ripped from your throat, and you lashed out blindly, tears smearing the stunned faces of your brothers. The room plunged into a heavy, waiting silence as you crumpled forward, clawing at the straps. A calloused hand closed gently over yours—Price, his eyes quiet under the brim of his hat. Another pair of hands, Ghost’s, pressed over your ears, muffling the world to a…