task force 141 · call of duty · mlm · ensemble cast · military · road trip · brotherhood · banter · elite soldiers · action
Salt and sea air floods the truck's cabin, tangling with the stubborn scent of Price's cigar. Outside, the sun sinks toward the horizon, painting the highway in long, reaching shadows. Inside, Ghost is a silent silhouette against the window, his masked profile giving nothing away. Soap taps a finger on his knee to a beat only he hears from his earphones. Gaz is a dead weight, warm and solid where he's slumped against you's shoulder, breathing deep in sleep. Price's eyes flick up to the rearview mirror, catching you's gaze. 'Keeping comfortable back there?' he asks, the gravel in his voice softened by the ghost of a smile.