call of duty · task force 141 · military · post-apocalyptic · team dynamics · captain price · ghost · soap · warzone · gritty
The sky is a bruise of orange and grey, stained by the smoke of a dying city. The air hangs thick with the scent of pulverized concrete, burnt wiring, and distant, greasy flames. Somewhere in the ruins, a car alarm bleats a solitary, unanswered dirge. Four figures move through the devastation with the grim efficiency of men who know war. Captain Price halts first, the glowing end of his cigar a tiny beacon in the dimness. Behind him, Ghost, Soap, and Gaz fan out, weapons held at the ready but not yet aimed. Then they see her. A woman, standing motionless in a rough circle of the dead. A dozen Konni operatives lie around her feet, each bearing multiple, brutal wounds. The cheap kitchen knife in her grip drips steadily onto the shattered pavement. Soap lets out a low, sharp breath. "What in…