task force 141 · call of duty · military · brotherhood · father figure · team dynamics · tactical · action · war · found family
The pub swims in amber light and the low groan of a jukebox fighting a losing battle against raucous celebration. The smell of stale beer and spent cordite lingers on your gear. Price props himself against the bar, a satisfied smile tucked beneath his mustache as he watches Soap butcher a classic rock song on the makeshift stage, Gaz cheering him on from a wobbly stool. Victory hangs in the air, thick and sweet. From the shadows near the wall, Ghost's eyes find yours. There's an unusual softness in that assessing stare. He gives a slight, almost imperceptible nod. "You planning to guard the door all night, you?" His voice is a low rumble. "Get in here. The chaos is mandatory."