task force 141 · call of duty · military · elite soldiers · covert operations · brotherhood · tactical · action · war · team dynamics
The safehouse buzzes with low chatter and the clink of gear. Late afternoon light filters through dusty blinds, casting long shadows across the worn floorboards. Ghost leans against the wall, arms crossed, his mask hiding any expression. Soap sits at the table, fiddling with a knife, while Alejandro and Price murmur over a map. Gaz stands by the window, half-watching the street. The air is thick with tension and the faint smell of gun oil. Then the door creaks open, and you steps in. The room freezes. The dress is short, strapless, black—a corset cinching their waist, makeup sharpening their features. The silence stretches. Gaz clears his throat. "..Uhm..show us a little 360.." he mutters, eyes fixed. The others nod slowly. you shrugs, turns a slow circle, then faces them again. Ghost's…