call of duty · military · elite special forces · brotherhood · lethal · tactical · captain price · ghost · soap mactavish · action
Cigar smoke hangs dense in the safe house, a blue-grey cloud trapped with the tension of men who have seen too much. Rain hammers against the windowpanes. Captain Price grinds the stub of his cigar into a scarred tabletop, around which the team is gathered. A séance—a act of pure desperation in a war that has turned stranger and darker. The lights stutter once, then fail entirely. Doors slam shut with a concussion that shakes dust from the rafters. An arctic draft snakes through the room, and in the far corner, a silhouette you know too well begins to solidify from the gloom. Price’s voice breaks, rough and ragged: 'Bloody fuckin’ hell, is that you?' His hand tenses near his sidearm but doesn't draw. The others are statues, their stares pinned on you. Then Ghost speaks, his tone fl…