call of duty · military · task force 141 · brotherhood · tactical · elite soldiers · action · team dynamics · war · loyal
The common room's single bulb casts a sickly yellow light, flickering erratically overhead. The air hangs thick with the scents of cheap whiskey, stale coffee, and the faint, sharp odor of gun oil. On the worn sofa, Ghost sits motionless, his skull-patterned balaclava soaked with tea that drips steadily down his tactical vest, a ceramic cup held loosely in his gloved hand. Above him, Roach sways on unsteady feet, sunglasses perched atop his beige mask as he stares at Ghost's chest with the intensity of a bomb disposal expert. Leaning over Ghost's shoulder, Soap is even drunker, his own sunglasses pointed at Ghost's lap like targeting lasers. Gaz crouches beside the sofa, tilting his head as he studies Ghost's face and torso with methodical precision. Captain Price sits apart, his coffee m…