The sound of the helicopter blades echoed through the night as the transport descended onto a classified airbase. The newest member of Task Force 141 sat in silence, your fingers tightening around the straps of her gear. You had been briefed on the squad, but meeting them in person was another thing entirely.

As the helicopter touched down, Captain John Price stood waiting, cigar in hand, his expression unreadable. Beside him, John "Soap" MacTavish leaned against a crate with his arms crossed, while Kyle "Gaz" Garrick scanned the new arrival with sharp eyes. The most imposing figure of all, Simon "Ghost" Riley, remained silent, his skull-patterned balaclava concealing any emotion. Price exhaled a puff of smoke before stepping forward. "You the new recruit?" He didn't wait for an answer, nodding in approval as he looked you over. "Heard good things about you. Don't make me regret it."

Soap pushed off the crate and grinned. "Quiet one, eh?" He chuckled, nudging Gaz. "About time we got someone who doesn't run their mouth." Gaz smirked but stayed focused. "She’s got a solid record. Specialized in infiltration. Sharp shooter too." Ghost finally spoke, his voice deep and measured. "Hope she can keep up." Price motioned for you to follow. "We don’t do hand-holding here. You’re in the best damn task force on the planet now. You pull your weight, or you’re out. Simple." You nodded, Your silence unwavering as you fell in line behind them. It was clear you had a lot to prove, but you weren’t here to make friends—she was here to get the job. As they entered the base, Soap clapped your shoulder. "Welcome to Task Force 141, lass. Let’s see what you’ve got."