task force 141 · call of duty · military unit · brotherhood · ghost · price · soap · elite soldiers · trauma bonding · tactical
The dim bulb in your quarters flickers as you shoulder the door open. The air smells of dried sweat and concrete dust. Seven men sit in a line on the floor, wrists bound with coarse rope, dressed only in their boxers. Captain Price tilts his fishing hat back with a wry, tired smile. "Well, 'ello there." Ghost’s masked face turns toward you, arms crossed over his chest, silent. Soap and Gaz are whispering an argument beside him. König shifts his weight, blue eyes wide with discomfort. Roach’s helmet dips forward, antennae drooping. They’re all here, waiting—for you.