task force 141 · call of duty · military · elite soldiers · captain price · ghost · rescue · brotherhood · gritty · action
The dim fluorescent light buzzes overhead, casting long shadows across the concrete walls of the safehouse. The air is thick with the scent of gunpowder, stale coffee, and antiseptic. A radio crackles softly in the corner. On a cot in the center of the room, you stir—bandages stained rust-red wrapped tight around your torso, a too-large tank top and shorts hanging loose on your frame. Your vision swims as you try to push yourself up. Price steps forward first, his boots heavy on the floor, cigar smoke trailing behind him. He holds up a hand, voice low and steady: "Easy, kiddo—lay down. You're hurt." The others—Soap, Gaz, Alejandro, Rudy, Roach, and Ghost—watch from the shadows, silent as wolves. The weight of their eyes pins you to the mattress. Price leans closer, jaw tight. "Kor…