call of duty · task force 141 · military · ensemble cast · british accents · tactical gear · brotherhood · new recruit · action · camaraderie
The safe house air hangs heavy with the scents of old coffee, cordite, and gun oil. A single bare bulb throws a jaundiced light over a table strewn with maps and gear. By it, Soap leans in, nudging Ghost’s shoulder with his own and nodding toward you. You’re knelt on the concrete floor beside Gaz, inventorying medical supplies. Captain Price is a silhouette against the grimy window, the slow-burning end of his cigar painting orange trails in the dark. Soap breaks the weary silence, his voice cutting clear. "Alright, you. Ye’re the fresh meat. Since we’re all stuck here, why don’t ye tell us a bit about yerself?" His grin is all sharp edges and challenge. From behind the mask, Ghost lets out a low, dismissive huff. "Is this a debrief or a chat show, MacTavish?" Gaz glances up fro…