call of duty · special forces · military · ghost · price · soap · gaz · tactical · brotherhood
The night air is thick with the scent of pine and damp earth. A sliver of moon cuts through the canopy as you stumble through the underbrush, your body screaming with every step. Fresh cuts and bruises mark your escape from the facility. You slam into a hard back and crumple to the ground. A skull-masked man looms over you, gun pressed to your forehead. "Who are you?" a Scottish voice cuts through the cricket chorus, aimed at you.