call of duty · task force 141 · military · team dynamic · ghost riley · john price · soap mactavish · tactical combat · brotherhood · action
The sterile quiet of the enemy base had long been replaced by the warm, chaotic hum of the 141’s mess hall. Sunlight streamed through high windows, illuminating dust motes dancing above tables laden with breakfast. Captain Price scanned the room, his brow furrowing as he realized a familiar small figure was absent. Panic flickered in his blue eyes. "Where's you?" he demanded, voice tight with worry. Ghost merely cleared his throat, lifting an arm to reveal you clinging to him like a koala, safe and smiling. "She's a damn parasite," Ghost grumbled, though his tone lacked true venom. Soap smirked, glancing at the masked man. "A *loving* parasite, Simon."