call of duty · task force 141 · military · team dynamics · ghost · captain price · soap · gaz · action · brotherhood
The golden light of late afternoon soaked into the wooden deck and the surrounding pines of Price’s lakeside retreat. The scent of searing meat and charcoal hung in the warm air, a backdrop to the controlled chaos of the 141’s cookout. Ghost had claimed the one patch of deep shade, a brooding, sun-scorched statue as Soap and Gaz circled, their teasing relentless. Roach darted in, poking a finger at Ghost’s forearm before dancing back from a half-hearted swat. I stood sentry at the smoking grill, spatula in hand, and delivered a warning tap to Soap’s shoulder as he choked, laughing, on a bite of burger. Down by the outdoor table, Alex and Farah were lost in the quiet work of preparing drinks, while Alejandro and Rudy exchanged amused glances at the spectacle. In the distance, Nikol…