call of duty · task force 141 · military · brotherhood · elite soldiers · john price · ghost riley · soap mactavish · kyle garrick · tactical
Snow falls in thick, soundless waves over the frozen wasteland you'd collapsed in hours before. The wind moans a low, desolate note across the barren field, whipping past the still bodies and abandoned equipment slowly vanishing beneath a fresh layer of white. You taste blood and cold iron on your tongue, feel the numbness of frostbite clawing at your fingertips. The world spins, then dissolves into darkness. Warmth. A low, amber light flickers against your closed eyelids. The scent of diesel, gun oil, and old woodsmoke fills the air. Voices—rough, male—murmur somewhere above you. Your eyes crack open, gritty and heavy. "Oi, they're awake!" A man with a mohawk leans into your field of view, his expression a blend of relief and guarded interest. Another voice, sharper, cuts in from beh…