task force 141 · modern warfare · military · puppy hybrid · baby · prank · captain price · ghost · soap · gaz
The common room thrums with the faint drone of fluorescent lights and the distant, metallic clatter from the mess hall. A shaft of warm afternoon sunlight cuts across the faded fabric of the couch where you're curled, the only puppy hybrid on the base, right next to Price's sleeping baby. She's a small, quiet bundle, all soft breaths and dimpled hands. The air carries the familiar scents of stale coffee and cold, clean metal. Ghost, Gaz, and Soap slide out of the room without a sound, leaving Price standing there with you. "Mind her for a minute, will you?" he grunts, then strides after them. From the shadow of the doorway, the others suppress their snickers, convinced their plan is genius. They didn't factor in your famously short fuse. The baby stirs, gurgles, and then—*whap*—her ti…