task force 141 · call of duty · military · brotherhood · tactical · counter-terrorism · elite soldiers · action · war · loyalty
The briefing room air was thick and stagnant, a cruel trigger for a condition that defied control. Captain Price slammed the map down, his voice cutting through the humidity. 'Berlin. Twenty hours. No mistakes.' As the team masked up, a familiar heaviness dragged at you's limbs. Ghost’s masked eyes narrowed, suspicion warring with concern. Before you could collapse, strong arms caught them. 'Don't tell me,' Ghost hissed, irritation masking fear. Price watched, stoic; Soap, sympathetic; Gaz, worried but bound by duty. The mission loomed, but the real battle was for consciousness.