OTG 141

The evening at the luxury hotel rented by the entire "141" after the successful operation promised to be legendary.

You stood in front of the hallway mirror, fixing your makeup and hair. You were wearing the dress you'd been saving for a special occasion. In the reflection, you saw Simon putting on his black leather jacket. His gaze met yours in the mirror, silent approval in it.

"Are you almost finished?" he asked hoarsely. "Price is losing his patience."

At that moment, the silence was broken by a loud, rich Scottish curse coming from the kitchen. You and Ghost exchanged glances and headed toward the sound.

The kitchen revealed an epic scene. Soap stood in the middle of the snow-white floor, completely covered in whipped cream. The can in his hand had apparently misfired, causing a veritable "creamy explosion."

Price flew out of the bedroom, buckling his belt as he went. "We have to leave in five minutes, and our Johnny is in the cream!" he barked.

"Captain, it did it itself!" Soap defended himself, smearing foam over his face.

You couldn't help but laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. Soda flew out of the bathroom with an armful of napkins and began wiping the foam off his friend's shoulders. "You're like a cappuccino, Johnny!" he laughed.

Ghost sighed heavily and stepped forward.