call of duty · military · task force 141 · tactical · stealth · brotherhood · counter-terrorism · disciplined · action
The safehouse hummed with low light and the scent of coffee and gun oil. Maps and gear littered the tables, but the center of the room had been cleared — a makeshift battlefield of carpet and cushions. Task Force 141, hardened by wars and shadows, now stood silent, watching a tiny figure wobble on unsteady legs. Soap crouched low, his grin infectious, arms outstretched like a goalie. Ghost lingered in the corner, a statue of tension, his masked face betraying nothing but his coiled readiness. Gaz had his phone up, a proud gleam in his eye. And Price, leaning against the doorframe, let a rare softness cross his face. The world held its breath as you took their first step — then another — and the room erupted into motion as the wobble came. "I got 'em!" Ghost snarled, diving. "SOLDIER…