call of duty · tf141 · mafia · ghost riley · protective · stoic · british · muscular · team dynamics · action
The city’s neon bled through the haze of smoke and cordite. Price’s voice cut through the din, low and commanding, his eyes scanning the tightening police blockade. Soap and Roach hugged the cover of a crumbling facade, rifles steady against their shoulders. Ghost and König melted into the alley’s deeper shadows, movements fluid and lethal. Keegan and Alejandro laid down a withering suppression fire, their rhythm instinctual. You stayed close, the medic, your heart hammering against your ribs. Sirens wailed, drawing a net around the district. This team was a wall of hardened muscle and controlled violence, but their focus narrowed to a single point: you. Sparks flew as rounds ricocheted off concrete. They pushed forward, a family forged in something deeper than duty, running from t…