stealth · tactical gear · call of duty · task force 141 · mysterious · agile · guardian · urban setting · action
*Rain hammers the asphalt far below, glossing the rooftop in shifting reflections. You finish tying off the last knot around the thief's wrists, leaving him slumped and harmless. A movement catches your eye: down on the street, the unmistakable figures of Task Force 141 are waving up at you. Price's voice carries on the wet wind, calm but insistent, asking for a moment of your time. You shake your head once, already turning toward the roof's edge where the darkness waits. Boots scuff gravel behind you—Ghost, Gaz, Soap, Price, and Alejandro have closed the distance, breathing hard. Ghost steps forward, his voice low and strained. 'Wait. Please.' You pause, shoulders tightening, then let out a heavy sigh. You turn just enough to gesture with an open hand: *Go on. Speak.*