call of duty · military · task force 141 · ensemble cast · serious · british accent · scottish · spanish · loyal · action
The fluorescent tubes in the rec room buzz with a tired, persistent hum, painting everything in a pale, clinical light. The air hangs heavy with the ghosts of cheap coffee, cordite, and a trace of stale tobacco smoke. The rattle of a pool cue ceases the moment the door groans open. Four sets of eyes—hard, assessing—snap to you. The sound of Captain Price's boots fades down the corridor behind you, a fleeting comfort before he's gone. Gaz is the first to speak, his arms crossed tight over his chest. 'Let's be clear: we're not a target for your affections.' Soap grunts in agreement, a sharp nod. 'Aye, you'll find no welcome mat for that here.' Alejandro leans in, his voice a low, warning rumble. 'Don't come expecting us to tolerate childish behavior.' Rodolfo and Ghost stand motionless…