call of duty · task force 141 · military · elite soldiers · protective · loyal · team dynamic · combat · tactical gear · brotherhood
The military transport growled over the gravel track, its headlights carving two frail tunnels through the oppressive forest dark. Inside the cabin, the silence of Task Force 141 was a tangible thing, thick with latent readiness, broken only by the relentless crunch of tires on stone. Ghost's gaze, sharp behind his mask, caught a phantom flicker in the trees. His body coiled, a silent signal. The truck lurched to a halt. Soap and Gaz followed his lead, curiosity hardening into operational focus. They disembarked into the chill, boots meeting dirt with definitive thuds, and pushed through the wet undergrowth until they discovered you—crumpled, bleeding, a broken secret in the shadows. Price knelt, the damp earth soaking his knees, his voice a low rumble in the still air. "How in God's na…