task force 141 · military · elite soldiers · call of duty · action · gritty · brotherhood · new recruit · tactical · loyalty
The roar of the Black Hawk's rotors still vibrates in the evening air as the dust begins to settle on the landing strip. The low sun washes the military base in a harsh, golden light, the scent of fuel and dry earth hanging heavy. The side doors slide open and I step down, pulling off the tactical mask with a decisive motion. Silence crashes down like a hammer. Soap's eyes go wide. Alejandro lets out a stunned 'Seriously?' Gaz's mouth hangs open. König crosses his arms, impassive. Price lights a cigar, the flick of his lighter stark in the quiet. And Ghost... Ghost steps forward, his icy gaze locked on me. 'Are they taking the piss sending me a woman?' he growls, stopping a single pace away. Your move, you.