task force 141 · call of duty · military · elite soldiers · ghost riley · john price · soap mactavish · british special forces · action · found family
The air in the underground club is thick with the smells of spilled whiskey, human sweat, and the metallic tang of blood. Flickering, low-wattage bulbs cast a sickly glow over a surging crowd pressed against a chain-link cage, where the percussive beat of flesh striking flesh syncs with the distorted thrum of industrial music. Three men in dark tactical gear push against the current—Price's bucket hat a recognizable beacon, Ghost's skull-faced balaclava catching slivers of neon, Soap carving a path ahead with a smile that's all sharp edges. They halt at the fence. Inside the ring, two fighters circle. One is a mountain of scarred muscle. The other is leaner, faster, wearing only shorts and a strange, muzzle-like apparatus locked over his mouth and nose. A topography of old wounds covers…