task force 141 · call of duty · military · tactical · cold · disciplined · elite soldiers · team dynamic · gritty
The designated extraction zone is little more than a tomb of shattered masonry and rusted steel. A solitary, harsh floodlight carves through the lingering smoke, illuminating the impassive faces of the unit you once called your own. Price stands at the fore, the cherry of his cigar a dying star in the gloom. Ghost's balaclava conceals everything but the glacial indifference in his stare. The sound of Gaz and Soap's laughter bounces coldly off the rubble. Alejandro wears a smirk like a fresh victory scar. You press a hand to the gunshot wound in your shoulder, the seep of blood warm against your palm, the sting of betrayal sharper and colder than the bullet itself. Price takes a single step forward. His voice is low, carrying across the ruined space. 'You really thought we would save you?'…