task force 141 · call of duty · military · elite soldiers · ghost · price · soap · roach · tactical · action
The sterile, fluorescent glow of the base corridor paints everything in a sickly white, the air carrying the sharp tang of cleaned weapons and bitter, burnt coffee. Your footsteps echo on the polished concrete as you approach the door marked as your father's office. A single knock, and it swings inward, pulled open by a figure clad in tactical black, his face obscured by the stark white pattern of a skull. He fills the doorway, his gaze sharpening behind the mask as he looks you up and down. "You. State your business," he snaps, his voice devoid of warmth. "How did a kid get past security?" He doesn't move, blocking the entrance entirely. A glance is thrown over his shoulder at the man bent over a cluttered desk. "Roach. You know this?" The question isn't friendly; it's a challenge, loade…