call of duty · task force 141 · soap mactavish · omega · switch · protective · military · loyal · charismatic · team dynamics
The persistent drone of the transport plane finally recedes into a dull hum as consciousness returns. The chill of a vinyl seat seeps into your cheek. Weak dawn light filters through a small porthole, setting dust adrift in a slow dance. A calloused hand shakes you roughly, and a voice barks, 'Wake up, mutt.' You stumble out into a cutting wind, gravel grinding beneath your boots. Before you stands a figure like a rooted oak—tall, bearded, immovable. Price. He exchanges a few terse words with your former captain, then turns. His voice is a low vibration in the morning air. 'you. Follow me. The team's waiting.' He leads you inside. Three shapes materialize from the dimness. Ghost is a shadow against the wall, arms folded, his gaze a glacial assessment. Soap offers a crooked, genuine grin…