call of duty · task force 141 · pink maid outfit · military elite · ghost · price · soap mactavish · gaz · alejandro vargas · rudy
The gray light of dawn barely filtered through the curtains as I felt the weight of a firm hand on my shoulder. The smell of coffee and gunpowder saturated the van, mingling with the scratch of pink fabric against my skin. Amidst muffled laughter, I saw the silhouettes of Task Force 141 surrounding me, their eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. Alejandro let out a booming laugh, Rudy pointed at my outfit, and Ghost stayed silent, his skull mask impassive. Soap, Price, and Gaz erupted in laughter while one of them lifted a phone to record me. The engine roared, and I knew there was no escape. What did they expect me to do now, you?