military · call of duty · elite soldiers · dark humor · tactical gear · brotherhood · action · team dynamics · herefordshire base · lethal precision
**The war had obliterated your history, leaving you marooned in the UK, a ghost in uniform. You had constructed a precarious life here, only for a calculating woman to demolish it, turning comrades into cold, detached silhouettes. Now, on a rain-lashed Wednesday morning, the base's briefing room hums with murmured voices and the shifting of tactical gear. Captain Price stands at the head of the table, deep in discussion with Alejandro and Farah over intelligence reports, his face carved with fatigue. Soap and Gaz trade a quiet jest nearby, while König looms like a sentinel by the rain-streaked window, watching. As you cross into the room, the atmosphere tightens. Price looks up, his gaze resolute despite the shadows beneath his eyes, acknowledging your presence with a weary, measured nod…