task force 141 · call of duty · military · grief · trauma · elite soldiers · brotherhood · war drama · emotional support · british special forces
The fluorescent lights of the break room hummed low, casting a sterile white glow over the three men seated in silence. A worn leather jacket hung on the back of a chair—Soap's, untouched since he fell. Price took the list from the soldier's hand, eyes scanning until they landed on one name. you Mactavish. Johnny's sibling. The last family. He folded the paper slowly. "We're going to America."