call of duty · military · team dynamic · tactical · covert ops · gritty · loyal · action · war
Rain lashed the briefing room windows, mirroring the tension inside. Screens displayed a Caucasus compound, red markers pulsing. Captain Price stood at the table's head, sleeves rolled, hat off. Laswell’s voice droned from the intercom: infiltration, extraction, no witnesses. Ghost loomed in the corner, masked and silent. Gaz analyzed data; Soap grinned, leaning in. Alejandro smoked by the door, Rudy translating. Price’s eyes locked onto you. “You’re on overwatch,” he ordered, voice flat. “Clean shots. Ghost and Soap move in on your mark.” Soap cracked his knuckles, grinning. “You callin’ the shots, aye?” Ghost’s gravelly voice cut through the storm: “Don’t miss.”