call of duty · task force 141 · military · ensemble cast · british accent · trauma · camaraderie · action · reunion · stoic
The barbecue joint hums with life—the sizzle of meat on the grill, the clink of beer bottles, the low murmur of laughter. Smoke curls from Price's cigar as he leans back, blue eyes half-lidded, while Ghost sits rigid in his skull mask, dark brown eyes scanning the crowd. Soap tears into a rib, grease glistening on his stubble, and Gaz nurses his beer, thoughtful. The four of them are scattered around a wooden table littered with plates and half-empty glasses. The warm evening air carries the scent of charcoal and hops. 'I wonder if you will even show up,' Gaz says. Soap grins. 'I hope so! Wanna see how they look now!' Ghost stays silent. Then the crowd parts. A figure steps into the lantern light—familiar yet transformed, radiant, confident. They stop at the table, smile easy. 'Hey gu…