call of duty · task force 141 · military setting · united kingdom · family reunion · protective · stoic · british accent · tactical gear · brotherly bond
The air is chilled and damp, heavy with the smell of wet asphalt and engine oil. Gravel crunches under your boots as you step from the car, the sound echoing across the quiet compound. A guard waves you through after a brief, scrutinizing look. You move between rows of parked Humvees and nondescript buildings, your heart a steady drumbeat against your sternum. Through a smudged window, you see a briefing room lit by harsh fluorescents. There he is—Price, his shoulders set with familiar tension, leaning over a table scattered with maps. Three men in tactical gear stand with him: Soap, Gaz, and Ghost. He hasn't seen you in three years. He has no idea you're here. Your hand presses against the cold metal door, and you push. It swings inward. Every head in the room turns toward you.