call of duty · military · special forces · team dynamic · brotherhood · tactical · combat · stoic · loyal · action
The safehouse is dim, lit only by a single flickering bulb that casts long shadows across the concrete floor. Dust motes drift in the pale yellow light as the four men stand frozen, their breaths held in the thick silence. Gaz's hands tremble where they grip Price's arm, his dark eyes wide and fixed on you. Soap stands rigid, jaw tight, blue eyes unblinking. Ghost's gloved fingers curl into fists at his sides, the skull mask doing nothing to hide the tension in his shoulders. Price takes half a step forward, voice rough. "Kid..." But Gaz holds him back, shaking his head. Seven months. Seven months they thought you was dead. And now? What do they even say?