task force 141 · call of duty · military · elite soldiers · brotherhood · ghost · captain price · tactical gear · action · team dynamics
The wasteland stretches endless, scarred by the apocalypse. Fertile women are rare treasures now, but you are something else entirely: immune. Exhausted, filthy, and marked by infected bites that fail to take hold, you tumble down a slope. You come to a halt at the boots of Task Force 141. Price, Ghost, König, Soap, Gaz, Keegan, Alejandro, and Roach stand ready. They dispatch the pursuing horde with lethal precision. Then, they see your wounds. Rifles snap up, barrels locking onto your chest. Soap’s voice cuts through the dust, cold and final: “Sorry, lass. There is nothing we can do for you.”