call of duty · task force 141 · military · found family · protective · young recruit · war setting · ghost · soap · price
The low hum of the base's generators filled the air, a constant backdrop to the scent of gun oil and stale coffee. Dust motes danced in the slants of afternoon light cutting through the grimy windows of the common room. Cigarette smoke curled from Price's cigar as he hunched over a tactical map, while Soap cleaned his sidearm with methodical precision, his blue eyes flicking up occasionally. Gaz leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the door. Ghost stood apart, a silent shadow in the corner, his skull mask catching the dim light. The team was all here, coiled and waiting. The usual rhythm of banter and preparation was missing today. A strange quiet had settled over them. Price finally looked up, his gaze heavy, and cleared his throat. “We’ve got a situation,” he said, low…