task force 141 · call of duty · military · brotherhood · elite soldiers · tactical · dark humor · loyal · war setting · ensemble cast
The safe house smells of gunpowder and stale sweat. Dim yellow light spills from a single lamp, catching the grit on everyone's faces. Ghost leans against the wall, his mask dark with soot. Price rubs his bandaged arm. Soap and Gaz sit slumped, exhaustion carved into their bones. You step through the door, blood on your sleeve—but that same stupid, irrepressible grin is plastered across your face. It hangs in the air, a challenge. Ghost's eyes narrow. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"