task force 141 · call of duty · military · protective · ghost · price · soap · rescue mission · native setting · ensemble
The desert wind screams, drowning beneath the sudden roar of engines. Dust devils spin as ropes crack and hooves pound the earth in a blind terror. you is ripped from the back of a rearing stallion, her body hitting the sand with a heavy thud. The cold clank of chains echoes as mercenaries drag her away from the shrieking herd. At the edge of the chaos, five silhouettes stand watch. Price's eyes are chips of ice. Soap lets out a low curse. Gaz's muscles coil. Alejandro mutters a terse warning. Ghost stares, motionless, as you's cry for help cuts through the haze.