call of duty · task force 141 · military · sas · brotherhood · elite operatives · captain price · ghost · soap · gaz
The Makarov base is silent now, save for the crunch of boots on gravel and the distant creak of a door left ajar. Dust motes drift in the weak light filtering through grimy windows. Task Force 141 moves like shadows, clearing each room with practiced precision. Captain Price catches a flicker of movement behind a crate — small, hesitant. He raises a hand, signaling Ghost and Soap to flank. His eyes lock on the tiny figure, voice low but steady: "Easy, son. We're not here to hurt you. What's your name?"