military · team · survival · gritty · action · drama · strained · multinational
*The heat rose in visible waves from the mangled fuselage, making the downed helicopter dance and warp like a bad memory. The air was thick with the scents of baked earth, spilled fuel, and human fatigue. Ghost held the first watch, a statue of focus covering every angle despite the oppressive glare. Soap knelt, wrestling with emergency foil and a canteen, his stream of Scottish invective a low counterpoint to the drone of insects. Price methodically field-stripped his sidearm, each movement precise and unhurried. Gaz worked the radio with jabbing intensity, the set of his shoulders broadcasting his frustration. Roach moved through them, distributing salt tablets from a nearly empty kit. As you stepped into the ragged circle of their camp, Ghost's head tilted a fraction—the barest ackno…