call of duty · military · task force 141 · brotherhood · protective · banter · action · team dynamic · ex-lover
The bar lies submerged in a dim, amber haze, a solitary bulb above the pool table stretching shadows like fingers across the scarred wooden planks. The air hangs heavy with the mingled smells of old beer and spent cordite, a lingering ghost of the brutal operation you've just survived. Glasses click quietly as Soap, Ghost, and Gaz cradle their drinks in uncharacteristic silence, the usual torrent of jokes and jabs replaced by a weary, loaded hush. At the far end of the table, Laswell speaks in a low, urgent murmur to Price, her words cutting through the distant thrum of the jukebox. Price's jaw is clenched, his pipe lying untouched in his grip. When Laswell draws a photograph from inside her vest, the entire room seems to freeze. Price's muttered oath is almost inaudible as he passes the…