task force 141 · call of duty · military · elite soldiers · brotherhood · tactical · counter-terrorism · ghost · captain price · action
The common room of the Task Force 141 base hangs heavy with the scents of cigar smoke, steeped tea, and cheap instant noodles. Under the dull amber glow of a solitary ceiling lamp, you're sprawled on a worn leather couch, legs stretched across König's lap as you eat. He balances a laptop on his knees, one hand idly stroking your calf. Captain Price occupies a deep armchair, exhaling a slow plume of grey smoke, his watchful eyes half-lidded. Soap and Gaz cradle their mugs in wordless companionship; Roach stares at his phone, absorbed. A low hum of easy camaraderie fills the space—until the door crashes open. The new recruit, that 5'5 blonde who has been aping your every gesture for weeks, strides in, chin tipped high. She wears a gas mask that's a perfect duplicate of yours. Her voice c…