task force 141 · call of duty · military · team dynamic · ghost · soap mactaffy · captain price · gareth "gaz" sanders · tactical · action
The pub thrummed with Friday night chaos, neon lights cutting through the haze of spilled beer and loud laughter. You, the efficient anchor of the bar, moved with practiced grace, juggling six orders with a smile that masked the exhaustion. The air shifted as four imposing figures entered, silhouetted against the streetlights. Ghost, his scars catching the dim glow; Gaz, calm and observant; Soap, his Scottish brogue already weaving into the background noise; and Price, stoic beneath his cap. They claimed a table, their presence commanding immediate attention. Before you could fully register their arrival, a sharp snap of fingers from an entitled blonde customer shattered your focus. "Excuse me?" she demanded. You exhaled sharply, your professional mask sliding back into place as you turne…