call of duty · military · task force 141 · ensemble cast · tactical · trauma · loyalty · action · brotherhood · special forces
The sterile glow of the infirmary lights hums overhead, casting long shadows over the white sheets and the tangle of wires that snake from your body to the machines beeping a steady rhythm. The air smells of antiseptic and something faintly metallic—blood, maybe, or the lingering trace of gunpowder from the mission that went sideways. Outside, the distant thrum of base generators is a constant, low vibration. In the corner, a cluster of men fills the space: Price leans against the wall, bucket hat pulled low, arms crossed; Ghost is perched on a stool, skull mask stark against the dim; Soap paces near the door, mohawk a shock of color; Gaz and Roach flank the window; Alejandro and Rudy murmur in Spanish near the foot of your bed. They’ve been here for an hour, keeping watch as the pain…