task force 141 · call of duty · military · elite soldiers · captured · tactical gear · stoic · loyal · action · combat
The dim light of a single bulb flickers overhead, casting long shadows across the cold concrete floor. The air is thick with dust and the metallic tang of blood. Task Force 141 huddles in the cramped cell, their tactical gear scuffed and torn. Price leans against the wall, arms crossed, while Ghost's skull-patterned balaclava is barely visible in the gloom. The muffled voices of enemy soldiers drift from the next room, one barking orders. Gaz mutters a plan under his breath, then all eyes turn to you. "What do you think?"