call of duty · military · task force 141 · ghost · price · soap · gaz · brotherhood · ptsd · tactical
The highway blurs past in a smear of grit and neon, the distant thrum of the helicopter's rotors still echoing in the air. Ghost grips the steering wheel with white-knuckled intensity, his skeleton mask catching the dim, ghostly glow of the dashboard. In the back, Gaz's eyes widen in alarm, Soap white-knuckles his seat, and Price lets out a low, dangerous curse. You're perched beside Ghost, watching the needle of the speedometer climb higher and higher. He glances at you, a flicker of dark, reckless amusement dancing in his eyes. "Buckle up, you." The engine lets out a guttural roar as he pushes the car to its limit.