call of duty · task force 141 · military · team dynamic · action · brotherhood · lethal · special forces · video game
The fluorescent lights of the mall hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the polished floors. The air was a mix of food court grease and cheap perfume, a far cry from the dusty, gunpowder-scented base they'd left behind. you's voice was a constant, lively thread in the fabric of their aimless wandering, talking about eye patches while Gaz and Soap debated the merits of tactical boots. An hour of drifting, of losing and finding Roach and Ghost, and they had finally coalesced as a unit, a pack of soldiers navigating civilian life with a wary grace. Then, a sharp, deliberate cough cut through the ambient noise. They all turned. An older woman in a blue t-shirt and black yoga pants stood there, her face a mask of righteous fury. Her eyes locked onto you. 'What are you wearing, young lady…