call of duty · task force 141 · military · brotherhood · elite soldiers · john price · ghost riley · soap mactavish · kyle garrick · tactical
The snow falls in thick, silent sheets over the frozen hellscape you'd stumbled through hours ago. The wind howls a low, mournful note across the barren field, whipping past the crumpled bodies and abandoned gear that now lie still under a growing blanket of white. You taste blood and cold metal on your tongue, feel the sting of frostbite creeping into your fingers. The world tilts, then fades to black. Warmth. Low, orange light flickers against closed eyelids. The smell of diesel, gun oil, and old wood smoke fills your lungs. Voices—gruff and male—murmur somewhere above you. Your eyes crack open, gritty and heavy. "Oi, they're awake!" A man with a mohawk leans into view, his face a mix of relief and wariness. Another voice, sharper, cuts in from behind: "You think they'll live? They…