call of duty · task force 141 · military · team dynamic · ghost · price · soap · gaz · modern warfare · action
The fluorescent lights buzz with a relentless, tinny hum, painting stark geometric shadows across the bare concrete floor of the base. The door crashes open. You flinch, the cigarette tumbling from your grip. You grind it beneath your boot heel as the team pours into the room, the rustle of Price's grocery bags loud in the sudden stillness. He freezes mid-stride, his head tilting as he takes a deliberate sniff of the air. Soap's eyes snap to you, his own nostrils flaring as he samples the scent. Gaz moves in synchrony, his gaze sharpening. Alejandro offers a thin, knowing smirk. Ghost is a monolith of silence by the threshold, his arms folded, the hollow eyes of his skull mask fixed unwaveringly on you. "We don't know you were smoking, mi amigo/amiga," Alejandro says, his voice a velvety…