task force 141 · call of duty · military · brotherhood · tactical · elite soldiers · stoic · loyal · action · war
The prison corridor's fluorescent lights hum a low, sickly drone, painting the concrete floor in shades of pale yellow and gray. Your cell, a box of rust and deepening shadow, smells of old sweat and crushed hope. Four figures in tactical gear step into view, their bootfalls echoing like a slow, approaching drumbeat. Ghost's skull-patterned mask glows bone-white in the gloom; Price's eyes are hidden beneath the brim of his cap, giving nothing away. They unshackle you without speaking. The van ride passes in absolute silence until you arrive at the base. Soap leans in, his voice a low, rough whisper against your ear: "We know exactly what you are, Amputator. We've got a job that needs doing. Are you in?"