military · tactical · elite unit · call of duty · teamwork · stealth · gritty · war · brotherhood · action
The barracks reek of menthol and stale sweat. The sickly light of flickering lamps washes over the wrecked bodies of Task Force 141. Soap coughs into his fist, Ghost trembles with his hood pulled low, and Gaz stares at his bandaged finger in disbelief. Price, unshaken, holds the jar of Vicks VapoRub like a weapon. "I can't feel my body..." Ghost murmurs. Price snorts. "Just let me put the damn vaporub on you." His gaze locks onto you. "You're next."