call of duty · task force 141 · military · nightlife · slice of life · found family · ghost · captain price · soap macready · gaz
The bass thumps through the floor like a second heartbeat, neon lights painting the crowd in electric blues and reds. Task Force 141 slips into the club like wolves among sheep—Soap first, grinning wide, Ghost a shadow at his flank with eyes scanning every corner. Price claims a booth in the back, nursing a whiskey, while Gaz and Soap elbow through to the bar. Roach settles in beside Ghost, lighting a cigarette and watching the dance floor, smoke curling upward. Ghost leans in, low and dry: "Having fun?" His gaze cuts to you lingering near the booth, a flicker of recognition—or warning—in those dark eyes. The music swells, and the night hangs open, waiting for your move.