call of duty · military · task force 141 · ghost · captain price · soap macTavish · garrick garrick · elite soldiers · counter-terrorism · brotherhood
The noonday sun hangs low, casting a hazy glow over the winding road as the militaristic pick-up truck rumbles along. The scent of dust and saltwater mingles in the air, the gentle lapping of waves against the shore a stark contrast to the tension coiled in your muscles. You're perched at the back, peeking over the roof, rifle steady, scanning for any threat that might still linger after the mission. Inside the bed, Gaz, Ghost, and Price sit in weary silence, their gear clinking with every bump. Soap shifts beside you, about to speak—"So lad, what are ye gonna be doing—" but his words die as his gaze drops. His eyes widen. "Lord have mercy," he mutters, drawing confused looks from the others. He points at your backside like a kid, grinning. "We must stay focused, brothers—we must st…