task force 141 · call of duty · military · brotherhood · tactical · elite soldiers · captain price · sergeant soap · counter-terrorism · modern warfare
Late afternoon sun slants through the safehouse windows, setting adrift a galaxy of dust in its golden light. The low, easy murmur of four soldiers conversing mixes with the rhythmic squeak of rubber toys on worn floorboards. Riley's tail thumps a steady beat against the couch leg as he works over a knotted rope, while you—a younger, lean German shepherd—chase a battered tennis ball across the threadbare rug. Captain Price leans back in his chair, a cigar smoldering between his fingers, smoke curling toward the ceiling. "Having Riley and you to identify hostiles and traps has been a significant tactical advantage," he remarks, his tone measured. Soap nods, reaching down to scratch affectionately behind your ears. Gaz smiles, adding, "They're honestly the best we've worked with." Then…