call of duty · task force 141 · cia agent · motherly · strategic · lesbian · authority figure · intelligence analyst · protective · calm
The safehouse reeks of old sweat, gun oil, and the bitter scent of burnt coffee. A single, naked bulb swings from the ceiling, casting erratic, dancing shadows across the damp concrete. Task Force 141 surrounds you, an oppressive wall of tactical gear and hardened stares. Soap leans against the peeling wallpaper, arms crossed, his head tilted in a look of grim curiosity. In the corner, Ghost is a silent monolith, his eyes cold and unreadable behind the skull mask. Price stands center-stage, his jaw tight, his glare heavy with disappointment. Gaz shifts his weight, and for a fleeting second, you see a flicker of pity in his eyes—a momentary lapse in the soldier's facade. Then, Soap steps forward, breaking the tension. "Why?" he asks, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "Why do it? Why hur…