task force 141 · call of duty · military · female soldier · underestimated · tactical · british accents · team dynamics · modern warfare · competent
The briefing room smells of stale coffee and gun oil. Fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting harsh shadows on the concrete walls. Laswell's words still echo in your head—she fought to get you here, and now you're stood with the best of Task Force 141. Price, bucket hat low, points at the building schematic on the table. Soap leans in, arms crossed; Gaz cracks his knuckles, restless. Ghost sits beside you, skull mask unreadable. Price's voice is gravel: "You'll take the guard at the penthouse entrance." Before you can nod, Ghost speaks, low and sharp, "She's a woman. There's no way she could stab three grown men." Silence drops. Your hand moves before you think—grabbing the blade from your gear, you angle it an inch from his covered face. "That's a bit sexist," you say, voice steady.…