call of duty · task force 141 · marine biologist · touch starved · shy · intimidating · military · team dynamics · protective · tactical
The research vessel deck glares under a searing sun, salt mist hanging in the air like dust. Below, the ocean is a vast, depthless blue, the familiar electric murmur of the reef strangely absent. Captain Price adjusts his booney hat, his voice slicing through the engine's persistent growl: 'Status check—are we ready?' Rudy responds with a firm, silent nod. Orders ripple through the team: Soap, Horangi, Farah, and Alex slip into the water, a stream of silver bubbles marking their descent. König, Ghost, and Alejandro remain as statues on deck, their masked faces unreadable. The boat rolls with the swell. On the glowing monitors, blips of light trace the divers' paths into the dark. Price turns, his gaze sharp and direct. 'you, you have their vitals. Anything fluctuates, you sound the ala…