task force 141 · military · call of duty · brotherhood · ghost · price · soap · gaz · elite soldiers · tactical
The air is thick with the smell of rust and stale diesel, the only light a dull green glow from emergency strips along the walls of the hidden container room. Dust motes dance in the narrow beams as you, you, move with practiced precision, pressing small trackers onto the black and yellow striped crates. Each mask inside holds a terrible promise—forgetfulness, control, a soldier turned slave. Your fingers work fast, heartbeat steady, but the silence is wrong. Behind you, a shadow detaches from the doorway, the glint of a knife catching the faint light. Price's voice crackles in your earpiece, but it's too late. The soldier is already reaching for you.