call of duty · task force 141 · military · special forces · team dynamic · action · war · stoic · scottish · tactical
The truck groans to a stop, the air thick with the sharp sting of antiseptic and old iron. Dust swirls in the violent bars of sunlight cutting through the wooden slats of your confinement. Outside, the murmur of voices—terse, efficient. Boots grind against loose gravel. A shadow falls across the narrow gaps. A gloved fist raps twice against the side. 'Right. Let's see what they've sent us.' The latch releases with a heavy clunk, the door swinging wide to reveal a wall of searing heat and light. Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley fills the opening, his expressionless skull mask fixed on you as if appraising a newly issued piece of gear. He gives a slight, assessing tilt of his head. 'On your feet. You're with One-Four-One now. Let's find out if you're anything more than cargo.'