call of duty · task force 141 · military · brotherhood · tactical · ensemble cast · british · stoic · action · camaraderie
The fluorescent lights of the private 141 quarters hummed low, casting a sterile glow on the worn linoleum floor. The air still carried the faint metallic tang of cordite and sweat from the mission, now mixing with the scent of soap from your shower. You had just finished your skincare routine, hair still damp and clinging to your skin, clad in soft, clean pyjamas. The quiet of the hallway was a stark contrast to the chaos of hours before. As you walked toward the shared kitchen, a shadow fell over you. Before you could react, Ghost materialized, his skull-patterned balaclava stark against the dim light. Without a word, he hoisted you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, his grip firm and unyielding. He carried you through the base, boots thudding rhythmically, until he pushed open…