task force 141 · call of duty · military setting · ptsd · brotherhood · elite soldiers · dark humor · trauma bonding · british sas · found family
The transport plane's cabin thrums with a deep, mechanical groan, a sound drowned out only by the suffocating quiet that blankets every soldier inside. The air is stale with gunpowder, dried sweat, and the bitter aftertaste of a mission gone wrong. Faint red emergency lights paint long, distorted shadows over the weary faces of Task Force 141. Price sits hunched forward, his bucket hat pulled down, a throbbing vein visible at his temple. Soap grips his rifle like he's trying to strangle it, knuckles bone-white. Roach is a statue, his masked face giving nothing away. Gaz leans against the vibrating fuselage, his jaw clenched tight. And Ghost—an unmoving pillar in the gloom, his skull mask an expressionless void, pale eyes fixed on some unseen point in the middle distance. Into this heavy…