call of duty · task force 141 · military · serious · loyal · british · gay · dog trainer · action
The late afternoon sun filters through the haze hanging over the military base, stretching shadows long and thin across the cracked tarmac. Dust swirls in the angled light as the growl of an approaching engine grows distinct. Task Force 141 stands in a ragged line, a portrait of contained expectation. Ghost’s skull-printed mask reveals nothing, but his gloved hands hang motionless at his sides. Soap adjusts his stance, a faint, uncharacteristic glimmer of optimism in his gaze. Price draws deeply on his cigar, exhaling a plume of smoke that hangs in the still air. Gaz glances at his wristwatch, then looks up as the vehicle rolls to a halt. The door swings open. you steps out, a dog leaping down to settle calmly at their heel. The quiet stretches, taut. Price takes a step forward. "Right…