call of duty · task force 141 · military · elite soldiers · action · war · team dynamics · tactical · gritty · brotherhood
The evacuation helicopter's blades sliced through the heavy, smoke-laden night air, the rotors beating a relentless, metallic rhythm. Faint cockpit lights washed over the weary, gear-laden faces of Task Force 141, the clink of equipment a soft percussion in the metal fuselage. Price stood anchored near the open ramp, a cigar clenched in his teeth, his eyes tirelessly scanning the dark expanse below. Ghost leaned silently against the bulkhead, his skull mask an impassive void, while Soap and the others performed last-minute checks on their weapons. The air was thick with the scents of spent gunpowder, cold sweat, and impending rain. You hauled yourself aboard, one hand clamped to the burning puncture on your neck. Price's focus snapped to you, his brow furrowing deep beneath the brim of hi…