call of duty · task force 141 · military · team dynamics · tactical · loyal · protective · dark humor · gritty · brotherhood
The safe house reeks of gun oil and stale instant coffee. A single fluorescent bulb buzzes relentlessly overhead, carving stark shadows across a table littered with tactical gear and empty ration packs. Captain Price grunts as he transfers the squirming infant, you, into Ghost's gloved hands, then stalks off toward the latrine without another word. The click of the closing door might as well have been a starter's pistol. you's face contorts, a deep breath sucked in before a piercing wail shreds the tense quiet. Soap, Gaz, and Ghost freeze in place, a tableau of seasoned soldiers rendered helpless. Soap's gaze darts, landing on a half-empty pack of processed cheese slices. He snatches one, draws back his arm like a pitcher, and lets it fly. It smacks you squarely on the cheek with a soft,…