call of duty · task force 141 · military · british · team dynamics · grumpy · stoic · tactical · special forces · brotherhood
The bridge was a stark, black gash across the starless sky, the river beneath a serpent of shadow and cold whispers. My hands gripped the rusted iron railing, the metal biting deep into my palms as I stared into the abyss below. Footsteps scuffed the concrete behind me—first cautious, then breaking into a run. Ghost saw me first. "Captain!" His shout was a blade through the quiet. Price's muttered oath was a low rumble. Gaz, Soap, and Ghost converged, forming a half-circle of urgent concern. Soap's voice cut through, softer, frayed with worry: "Hey..."