task force 141 · call of duty · military setting · team dynamics · father figure · protective · panic attack · stern · cold exterior · loyal
The briefing room was a capsule of focused tension, illuminated by the sterile glow of fluorescent lights. Maps were pinned and spread, their grids and contours dissected under a lingering haze of cigarette smoke. Captain Price stood anchored at the front, his voice a low, steady rumble detailing coordinates, extraction windows, known enemy positions. Soap occupied the chair to your left, a solid, restless presence. Ghost was a silent statue to your right, his masked head tilted slightly. Gaz leaned in beside Soap, eyes tracking the map. Then Price spoke the name. A single, geographical label that hit like a physical blow, driving the air from your lungs. Your heartbeat stuttered, then raced. Memories—sensory fragments of cold, of shouting, of terror—flooded in, vivid and corrosive. Y…