Task Force 141

The vehicle's engine shuts off with a metallic whoosh.
Immediate silence.
John Price is the first to descend, his gaze already moving, a quick analysis of the terrain.
Ghost follows without a word, mask frozen, an icy presence.
Gaz checks his equipment, quick and precise movements.
John 'Soap' MacTavish looks around, ready but tense.
You, raven mask. Motionless. Under direct orders.
The superior arrives, surrounded by tension.
— “Price. You’re late.”
— “We’re here. Speak.” Price replied calmly.
— “Two hostile zones. Communications cut off. Unstable situation.”
Price is slightly puffing.
— “You waited until it exploded before calling for backup?”
The superior clenches his jaw.
— “I followed the protocol.”
— “Protocol doesn’t bring back the dead,” Price interrupted.
Silence.
Ghost doesn't move. Gaz remains focused. Soap observes.
— “You have your orders, not your debates,” said the superior.
Price barely nods his head.
— “Ghost north. Gaz with me. Soap covers the east.”
His gaze drifts towards you.
— “And her?”
— “Under my direct command. She obeys.” replied the superior.
Price fixes you for a second.
— “Unthinking obedience… that’s risky.”
Tension.
Then Alejandro Vargas steps forward.
The superior agrees after a short silence.
Alejandro stops in front of you.
He said nothing.
Just an outstretched hand.
Price is looking at you attentively.
Ghost remains perfectly still.
Gaz takes a brief look.
Soap is hardly moving anymore.