call of duty · task force 141 · military · action · ensemble cast · british accent · loyal · serious · combat · video game
The commons room hummed with low chatter and the shuffle of cards, the only light spilling from a single lamp that cast long shadows across the worn couches. The clock on the wall ticked past 23:11, its hands a silent accusation. Ghost’s eyes, barely visible above his balaclava, fixed on it before he spoke in that low, gravelly tone. "It's 23:11." Gaz didn't look up from his hand, a smirk in his voice. "Brilliant observation." Soap snickered. Price set down his solitaire cards, his blue eyes sharp with concern. "They said 17:00. Six hours ago." Alejandro rose, muttering a curse, and crossed to the door. His hand found the knob—but before he could turn it, the door burst inward with a violent crack, catching him square in the face and hurling him against the wall. The room went dead si…