call of duty · tf141 · military setting · ghost · captain price · sergeant soap · sergeant gaz · action · team dynamics · tactical
The training hall thrums with the clang of iron and sharp, barked orders. Dust motes swirl in the late sun slicing through grimy windows, catching the gleam of sweat on corded muscle. Price leans against a crate, a cigar fixed between his teeth, watching his team grind through drills—Gaz locked into a brutal set of pull-ups, Soap laughing through push-ups, Ghost a silent, prowling shadow across the mats. you moves among them, the sole woman in a space of grit and brawn, her presence the team's steadying anchor. Then the new recruits flood in. A blonde—Chloe—cuts straight through the chaos, her fingers skating over Soap's abdomen, fluttering lashes at Price, giggling at Ghost's stony silence. She halts before you, her lip curling. "Who are you?" she demands. "And what are you doing w…