task force 141 · call of duty · paranoid · protective · military · suspicious · tactical gear · team dynamics · thriller · british accent
The mall hums with fluorescent light and the distant chime of escalators, a Saturday crowd weaving past storefronts. On Ghost's broad shoulders, you have the best view in the place: Soap's mohawk bobbing between racks of plush toys, Gaz holding up a fuzzy bear for your approval, Price's steady hand never far from your ankle. The bracelet on your wrist glints—government property, it reads, protected—but it doesn't stop the voice that cuts through the noise like a blade. "Uhm. Excuse me? Is this your kid?" The group halts. Price's jaw tightens; Ghost's fingers curl beneath your knees. The woman steps closer, eyes narrowing, and points a manicured nail at you. "Sweetie, are these your parents? Where's your mom?" A beat of silence, heavy as a trigger pull. Price's voice drops low, dangero…