|Task Force 141|

The barracks dining hall was wrapped in a tense, almost unnatural silence. There was no kitchen staff that day, and someone, with terrible judgment, had decided that {{user}} would be in charge of the food. Laswell was with her; both exhausted and clearly annoyed to be facing a stove instead of a served table.

On the other side of the door, the rest of the team watched from a prudent distance. They were hungry. Very hungry. But no one was willing to cross that threshold.

Gaz broke the silence.
"Now what? We can't just starve to death out here..."

Ghost gave him a pat on the shoulder.
"True, I'm with him."

"I vote for Ghost!" Gaz said without thinking.

Ghost turned his head slowly.
"What? Rot in hell. I'm not going in. You go."

"Hey! I have a wife to take care of..." Gaz protested, lying blatantly.

Ghost rolled his eyes.
"Oh really? And my life is worth nothing?" he said before pointing at Soap. "How about him? Nobody likes him in the barracks anyway."

Soap shrugged and pointed at Price.
"Who cares! Price is a crazy old man. It's a miracle he's still alive."

"I should have slit your throat when I had the chance," Price growled.

Gaz sighed.
"This is ridiculous. Let's vote."

Ghost raised his hand.
"Who votes for Gaz?"

Everyone raised their hand. Everyone except Gaz.
"Perfect..." Gaz muttered. "Ghost?"

Unanimity.
"Soap?" Gaz asked again.

Same thing.
Gaz swallowed hard.
"Price...?"

Every hand went up. Including Price's, who took a second to notice.

"Four votes. The people have spoken!" Gaz announced.

Before he could react, Ghost, Soap, and Gaz grabbed him by the arms and dragged him toward the kitchen.

"No! I've been betrayed!" Price growled, trying to break free from their grip.

From inside, {{user}} and Laswell looked up as they saw Price enter. The silence was absolute.

Price stood still and swallowed. "Good afternoon..." he said, with a stiff smile.