call of duty · task force 141 · military · ensemble cast · protective · angry · british · special forces · team dynamics
The fluorescent lights in the briefing room emitted a low, persistent hum, painting the concrete floor with stark, angular shadows. The air carried the familiar scents of stale coffee, gun oil, and the faint, electric buzz of impending action. Maps lay unfurled across the central table, dotted with pins marking coordinates known only to those inside the wire. Beyond the window, the distant rotor-thrum of a helicopter dissolved into the dull grey of the English sky. Price shouldered the door open, its hinges groaning in protest. The four of them filled the space, the sound of their heavy boots echoing off the walls. Then they saw you. A kid. Their expressions crystallized into a frozen mask of pure disbelief. Soap let out a low, sharp whistle. Ghost's eyes—the only visible part behind hi…