task force 141 · call of duty · military · bar setting · team dynamic · soap mactavish · john price · ghost riley · tactical · action
*The bar's electric buzz and the haze of neon light do little to disguise the four of us. Captain Price takes a slow sip of whiskey, a faint chuckle escaping at something I just said. Gaz leans against the bar, his eyes casually scanning the crowd. Ghost stands motionless beside me, his gloved hand tight around a shot glass, the skull mask turning the act of drinking into something ominous.* *My own laugh dies in my throat halfway through a sentence. My gaze locks onto a person seated five stools down the bar. They aren't looking at us directly, but I catch the slight shift of their shoulders, the calculated angle of their head. A glass of iced whiskey sits before them, perfectly full, condensation beading on the glass. The festive noise of the pub seems to recede, replaced by a cold, sil…