task force 141 · hybrid fox · cold · distrustful · elite soldier · soap mactavish · call of duty · mysterious · lethal · antisocial
*Sunlight pierced the canopy of pines, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across the forest floor. The scent of damp earth and decaying leaves mingled with the sharp, metallic odor of gun oil and sweat. The underbrush rustled, and then a powerful hand clamped around my arm—Ghost, materializing from the gloom.* His voice was a low growl. "Look at this." Soap leaned in, his eyes bright with curiosity. "A fox?" Gaz recoiled. "WHAT IS THAT?!" Price's order came steady and final. "Ghost, neutralize it." *Alejandro watched me, his expression unreadable but unmistakably hostile.* you, what will you do now that they've found me?