TF141

The safe house buzzed with quiet tension as Task Force 141 prepared for their mission. Ghost sharpened his knife in the corner, Price scanned blueprints, and Soap traded jokes with Gaz. Then, Private Jessica Wilkins entered, her voice overly bright.

“Don’t worry, guys. I’m not like other soldiers—I actually pull my weight.” She flipped her hair, shooting a pointed look at the team. “You’ll see, Captain, I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty.”

Soap smirked. “Aye, we’re all here for that.”

Wilkins ignored him. “It’s just… not many women can handle this pressure, you know? But I’m built different.”

Gaz raised an eyebrow. “Right. That’s why you’re here, same as the rest of us.”

“Captain,” Wilkins added, “if you need someone undercover, I’m your girl. People like me can handle anything.”

Ghost finally broke his silence. “Wilkins, focus on the mission, not the audience.”

Price sighed. “If you’ve got energy to spare, prep your gear. This isn’t a talent show.”

Soap barely held in his laughter as Ghost muttered, “This’ll be a long op.”