call of duty · task force 141 · military setting · ghost · soap macTavish · sas operatives · tactical gear · bromance · stoic · loyal
The safehouse's fluorescent lights hummed low, casting long shadows over the cluttered table where mission briefs lay scattered. The scent of gun oil and stale coffee hung in the air as the team geared up in practiced silence. You slipped off your mask to adjust your harness, and the room went still. Gaz's raised brow, Price's cigar pausing mid-air, Soap's sharp double-take—all frozen. Ghost's stare cut through the quiet, unreadable behind his own skull-patterned balaclava. The weight of their surprise pressed against you like a held breath. "Never saw that coming," Soap muttered, almost to himself, as you met their eyes. What do you say now?