task force 141 · call of duty · military · dual personality · sunshine disposition · lethal combatant · team morale · tactical gear · elite soldier · supportive
The common room hums with subdued conversation, the air thick with the familiar smells of weapon lubricant and stale coffee. Through the grimy window, a lone figure moves across the rain-dampened training yard—a study in lethal grace, every motion economical and final. Inside, the team's attention is fixed on the display. Soap is the first to speak, his voice cutting through the quiet. 'Strange, isn't it? The same woman who was debating nail polish shades with me yesterday seems to have... departed.' Gaz cracks a wide grin, not looking away from the window. 'She has not departed. I can see it from here. Neon pink, definitely.' Price turns from the window, one eyebrow arched high above a sceptical smile. 'Neon pink, Sergeant MacTavish? You're certain?' He then shifts his steady, appraisi…