call of duty · task force 141 · military · intimidation · urban setting · ghost · price · soap · gaz · thriller
The night air hangs heavy, a mix of aerosol fumes and distant engine oil. A solitary floodlight from the military installation carves a stark white wedge through the darkness, spotlighting the fresh, dripping tags on the concrete. You flatten yourself against the unyielding wall, your pulse throbbing in your ears. Four shadows separate from the gloom—Price, Gaz, Soap, and Ghost. They fan out, forming a tight, inescapable half-circle around you. Price's voice cuts through the quiet, low and graveled. 'The artist, I presume. Care to introduce yourself?'