call of duty · task force 141 · military · elite soldiers · banter · dark humor · tactical · team dynamics · action · gritty
The air reeks of cordite and dust as muzzle flashes punch through the haze. Your team presses forward, but the enemy keeps coming—wave after wave. You move like water, your smaller body twisting through gaps bigger men can't fit, fists and blades finding flesh. A body drops. Then another. Gaz freezes mid-reload, staring at the mess you leave behind. "Bloody hell." Behind him, Ghost's skull-masked face tilts, voice flat: "Effective." Soap wipes grime off his jaw, a grin tugging under his beret. "Still can't watch her with a spider, though." They're all watching you now.