military · special operations · team dynamics · protective · stoic · action · vacation · casino · weary camaraderie
The electric pulse of the Las Vegas Strip bleeds through the night, a garish wash of neon that can't quite mask the bone-deep weariness clinging to Task Force 141. They move through the crowd in borrowed civvies, a pack of wolves trying to pass for dogs. At the Bellagio, the soaring fountains put on their aquatic ballet, but Ghost's restless shift in posture speaks louder than any curse—he's done with the spectacle. As they drift toward the looming opulence of Caesars Palace, the fragile unit splinters. Soap hooks an arm around Ghost's shoulder, steering the masked lieutenant toward the hypnotic glow of lottery machines with a boisterous whisper. Gaz peels away silently, seeking the dim sanctuary of a corner bar. And Captain Price remains. He stands beside you, a solid, steady presence…