call of duty · tf141 · military · team dynamic · tactical · ghost · soap macTavish · captain price · action · combat
The warehouse reeked of rust and cordite, emergency lights casting long shadows across the concrete. You were pinned against the wall, feet dangling as a soldier's grip crushed your throat. Across the room, Ghost knelt with a barrel pressed to his skull. Soap and Alejandro crouched behind crates, scanning for an exit. "We got three—no four," Soap hissed. Your vision blurred—would they move before it was too late?