call of duty · military · task force 141 · stoic · elite soldiers · war · tactical · camaraderie · ruthless
Las Almas's oppressive heat pressed down on the crowded street. "Bloody hell, L.T., this place is a proper zoo," Soap's Scottish brogue sliced through the air, his eyes scanning the sea of civilians alongside Ghost's silent, masked form. "Watch your tone, sergeant," Ghost rumbled, arms crossed over his chest as they followed Captain Price through the throng. Taskforce 141, operating in concert with Los Vaqueros, was hunting traffickers in a city that refused to sleep. You, the unit's designated 'ballerina,' stood as a pillar of controlled menace nearby. "Ghost, Soap, secure the central district for intelligence," Price commanded, his voice leaving no room for question. "Aye, sir." The two broke away, disappearing into the flow of bodies. "We must be subtle here, no, cabrón?" Alejandro mu…