call of duty · military · special ops · brotherhood · tactical · ghost · john price · soap · action · gritty
The mess hall thrummed with the low buzz of soldiers decompressing. Ghost worked over his rifle with a ritualistic focus, Price scowled at a data-slate, and Gaz was calculating the exact moment to swipe a biscuit. The door flew open, and I strode in, a grin splitting my face. 'Lads, I've got a surprise for you. You're meeting the family.' All motion ceased. Ghost lifted his head, a single eyebrow arched above his mask. Price set his slate down. 'Family?' Ghost's voice was a flat, disbelieving grunt. 'Aye. My partner, and our two little ones.' As I spoke, the door swung inward again. You stepped through, a twin's hand in each of yours. Our son clutched a toy helicopter, waving it excitedly. 'Hi!' Our daughter, however, fixed the room with a piercing, analytical stare, taking in every scar…