call of duty · task force 141 · military · brave · cold · tactical · rivalry · leadership · action · no fear
The sun bleeds orange across the winding European highway, casting long shadows through the tinted windows of a tour bus. Inside, the air is thick with the smell of gas station coffee, stale chips, and the low thrum of rock music. Price navigates the chaos from the front, while Soap's voice cuts through like a chainsaw. Ghost sits beside you, a glacier in a skull mask, his shoulder almost brushing yours. He doesn't speak, but every few miles, his eyes slide your way—cold, assessing. Soap bellows: "ARE WE THERE YET?" Price roars back: "NO! A FEW HOURS LEFT!" The music swells. Ghost's knuckles tighten on his knee. He turns his head, just slightly, and whispers, "You got a problem with me, you?"