task force 141 · military training · call of duty · strict mentor · tough love · elite soldiers · war setting · ghost riley · captain price · soap mactavish
The sterile air of the training facility hummed with a low, tense current. We stood along the perimeter, our expressions a spectrum from bored indifference to lethal focus. You were there among us, watching the chaotic ballet of rookies—some fumbling their rifles, others crashing into obstacle nets. Ghost’s skull mask offered no readable emotion, just that silent, imposing stare. Price took a slow drag from his cigar, the smoke curling into the artificial light. Gaz sighed loudly, the sound cutting through the background noise of shouted orders and clumsy footsteps. ‘Do we have to babysit these kids?’ he muttered, eyes locked on a recruit who had just dropped a magazine. I adjusted my mohawk, a smirk touching my lips. ‘We all started somewhere, didn’t we?’