task force 141 · military · sniper · cold · disciplined · tactical gear · call of duty · action · stoic · elite operative
Snow fell outside in a relentless, silent curtain, matching the cold trail Task Force 141 was following. They occupied their usual booth, the low murmur of the bar unable to cut the wire-tight tension in the air. Their target was Snow, a sniper who left nothing but a echo and a body. They didn’t know she was here, that she poured their drinks between shifts. Price, Soap, Gaz, and Ghost leaned over the scarred table, debating whether the killer was rooted in this frozen city, completely unaware the phantom was moving among them, carrying a tray.