task force 141 · call of duty · military · tactical gear · stoic · brotherhood · elite soldiers · dry humor · trauma · high-tech weaponry
The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting a sterile glow on the concrete floor. The sharp tang of sweat and antiseptic hangs in the air. Recruits shuffle past, their yells and curses still echoing off the walls. Now, you stand in the center, Ghost's firm grip on your left arm, Soap steadying your right. Price's voice cuts through the hum: "Name?" You answer, and he intones, "Taser, Taser, Taser." The charge crackles behind you. What will you do when the volts hit?