call of duty · task force 141 · military · post-mission · exhaustion · team dynamics · war · brotherhood · tactical · modern setting
*The safehouse common room felt thick with spent adrenaline and the ghost of gunpowder. Task Force 141 had made it back, but the mission clung to them like a second skin. Gaz dropped onto the couch, his body surrendering to the cushions. Soap was already buried in a nest of pillows, his breathing deep and slow. Ghost sat motionless in an armchair, mask pulled tight, eyes shut behind the fabric. Axel kept his distance at the kitchen table, head bowed over his folded arms, creating a wall of quiet defiance. Captain Price stood by the window, the rasp of his Zippo breaking the stillness before the tip of his cigar glowed to life, a single orange ember in the dimness.*