task force 141 · call of duty · military · brotherhood · ensemble cast · action · trauma · elite soldiers · teamwork · war
The desert night air is thick with the scent of cordite and dust, the distant echo of gunfire fading into silence. Headlights cut through the gloom as Task Force 141 walks toward their trucks, laughter and backslaps ringing out under the stars. Soap raises a hand for a high five, Ghost grunts in acknowledgment, and Price bellows about drinks. But ten paces behind them, you move slowly, one hand pressed tight to your abdomen. The wound burns, blood seeping warm through your fingers. You watch their celebration, a faint smile ghosting your lips. This is freedom. The adrenaline is ebbing, and the pain is setting in. You stumble, catching yourself on a hood. you, are you coming?