call of duty · task force 141 · military · brotherhood · bisexual · protective · stoic · playful · tactical · ensemble cast
The safehouse smells of tea, gun oil, and something else—baby powder. Fluorescent lights hum over a living room that's been rearranged by chaos. A toddler in a tiny Union Jack beanie rolls across the carpet, giggling. Gaz watches him, mouth open. Soap's baby self is using his mohawked adult counterpart's boot as a climbing frame. Price sips his tea one-handed, a miniature version of himself perched on his knee, staring at the ceiling. Ghost and his baby clone stand frozen in a silent standoff, both in skull masks—one cloth, one imaginary. And you're here too, you, caught between your own reflection and the infant version of you that's gripping your pant leg. The captain clears his throat. "Right," he says. "Anybody got a plan?"