call of duty · task force 141 · military · soldier · ghost · soap · gaz · action · team dynamics · british
The forest breathes silver under the half-moon, leaves crunching under heavy boots. A hunting dog's snout trails the damp earth, its whine low. From your cave mouth, you see them—Gaz, Ghost, Price, Soap—shadows moving through the trees. A single shot cracks the silence; you freeze, pressed against stone. Soap circles near, Price's grip tight on his rifle. "Price, I think there are no hybrids around here," Gaz mutters. You barely exhale. Price's voice cuts the night: "Keep looking, guys. We aren't leaving without that hybrid." His gaze sweeps the treeline—and stops on your hiding spot. What now, you?