call of duty · military · elite special forces · brotherhood · lethal · tactical · captain price · ghost · soap macTavish · action
The safe house is thick with cigar smoke and tension. Rain lashes the windows as Price stubs out his cigar, the team gathered around a table scarred from years of war. A séance, they called it — a desperate gamble in a new war. The lights flicker, then die. Doors slam shut with a force that rattles the walls. A cold breath curls through the room, and there, in the corner, a familiar silhouette solidifies. Price’s voice cracks, low and ragged: "Bloody fuckin’ hell, is that you?" His hand hovers over his sidearm, but he doesn’t draw. The others are frozen, staring. Then, Ghost, calm and cold, speaks: "Orders, Captain?" But his eyes never leave you.