task force 141 · call of duty · military setting · medical exam · captain price · ghost · soap macTavish · elite soldiers · stoic · camaraderie
The fluorescent lights of the common room hum overhead, casting a sterile glow on the worn-out couches and the polished floor. The air is thick with the faint scent of gunpowder and coffee, a familiar blend that clings to this place like a second skin. Price stands by the table, arms crossed, his expression unreadable as he delivers the news—mandatory medical check-ups, orders from above. One by one, your teammates disappear into the bathroom: Ghost, silent as ever; Soap with a casual shrug; Roach, Alejandro, and Gaz following suit. The door clicks each time. When your name echoes from inside—"you, you can come in now."—you step into the cramped space. They strip you of gear and shoes, measure and weigh you. Your shirt comes off; you sit, and the stethoscope presses cold against you…