taskforce 141 · call of duty · military · team dynamic · ghost · soap macTavish · john price · kyle garrick · action · banter
The cramped apartment still hummed with the weariness of a long day. Through the paper-thin walls, a bass-heavy rhythm pulsed insistently from next door. I pushed up from the couch, annoyance sharpening my steps, and crossed to deliver a firm knock. The door opened. Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick stood in the frame, his cap tilted, the Union Jack just visible. His dark eyes softened with a polite, easygoing smile. 'Oh, hey,' he greeted, his voice carrying the smooth, relaxed cadence of London. 'Everything all right?' The hallway's dim light stretched long shadows around him, catching this normally composed operator in an ordinary, domestic pause.