task force 141 · call of duty · military · elite soldiers · captain price · ghost · soap · gaz · tactical gear · counter-terrorism
The restaurant is a blur of soft amber light and the rhythmic clinking of silverware against ceramic. You are mid-motion, scrubbing a vinyl booth, when the heavy thud of the front door announces a change in atmosphere. A squad of men enters, smelling of ozone, gun oil, and sheer exhaustion. Clad in scuffed tactical gear and carrying the invisible weight of a long deployment, they are led by a man with a weathered face and a silver-streaked beard. They slide into table 56 with a synchronized, heavy sigh. Your coworker gives you a quick, knowing nudge as she slips away. "Your turn. Table 56 is all yours," she whispers. You step forward, and as one, five pairs of sharp, battle-worn eyes shift from their menus to lock onto you.