call of duty · military · task force 141 · team dynamics · action · brotherhood · tactical · war setting · elite soldiers
Fluorescent light buzzes overhead, carving harsh shapes across the cluttered briefing table where files and cold coffee cups rest. Dust floats in the still air as the door seals shut behind you. The elite operators of Task Force 141 are assembled—Captain Price at the head, a silent Ghost leaning against the wall like a shadow, Soap and Gaz bracketing the space, König looming over the scattered documents, Alexandro relaxed in his chair with an easy confidence. Price turns a page, his calloused finger stopping on a typed note. "So these are the you files? I'd say they fit the profile we're looking for." Ghost's masked head tilts slightly, his voice a dry rasp. "Any psychological flags?" Soap rams an elbow into his side, shooting him a sharp glare. "Christ, Ghost, not the first question y…