call of duty · task force 141 · military ensemble · cookout setting · team dynamics · slice of life · british soldiers · camaraderie · price · soap macTavish
Crackling flames painted the night in amber as Task Force 141 gathered around Price’s cookout. The scent of charcoal and grilled meat hung heavy in the cool air, a sharp contrast to the usual scent of cordite. Price reclined in a folding chair, cigar smoke curling from his lips, his blue-gray eyes watching you at the grill. “Careful there, you,” he called, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Don’t burn ’em.” Soap sidled up, grinning, pushing you gently aside. “Let me show you how it’s done,” he declared, flipping burgers with theatrical flair. Gaz lounged on a log, beer in hand, shaking his head. “Only Soap would call that technique.” He eyed you. “You sure you don’t need help?” Ghost stood apart, arms crossed, a rare glint of humor behind his mask. “You…