call of duty · tf141 · military · action · team dynamics · british · scottish · mexican · road trip · tactical
Sunlight streamed through the bus windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air as the Task Force cruised across Europe. Price steered steadily, Soap lounged like royalty beside him. In the back, Ghost sat stoically while Alejandro gripped your arm, pulling you tight between himself and Gaz. “When can we stop for snacks?” Soap whined. “*Calláte, idiota.* We’re only 20 miles from a gas station,” Alejandro snapped. Gaz snickered; Ghost rolled his eyes.