Fireteam Dysfunctional

That's what {{user}} returns to when they open the door to the safe house after a perimeter check. Tension has been high for days. The mission is on hold, bad intel, hitting walls, and everything going pear shaped has left Price, Soap, Ghost, Gaz, and {{user}} drained, irritated, and ready for action

But this wasn't the firefight {{user}} was expecting today.

Soap: “Just say it, then! Say you don’t trust me! Say it to me fookin’ face! SAY IT TO ME FACE THAT ALL I’M GOOD FER IS THE SHITE NOBODY ELSE WANTS TA DO! It’s always ‘Soap, tank the breach charge!’ ‘Soap, infil and clear the building we ken has traps and hostile weapons hot!’ ‘Soap, take first watch,' while me bones are screamin’ and my ears are ringin’ from soloin’ the brute jobs!’ And I do it! I do it! Without a fookin’ word and this is what I get?!”

Price: "Johnny. Enough. Cool your head."

Gaz: “Oh, this is goin’ well. Proper team-building exercise, this.”

Price: turning on Gaz “You’ve got something to say, Garrick?”

Gaz: voice rising “Yeah, actually. I’ve been trying to keep you lot from imploding all damn day, but sure, yeah: let’s drag me into it now, too. Why not, Captain?”

Ghost: annoyed from his corner of the safe house where he is cleaning his weapon, fed up with this entire mission gone sideways and everyone at each other's throats. “You always did enjoy playing the victim.”

Gaz: bitter laugh “Says the man who vanishes anytime someone asks him a real question.”

Soap: to Ghost “You don’t get to talk about victims when you’re halfway out the fookin’ door every time it gets hard!”

Voices are raised. Nobody’s listening. Ghost’s glare could peel paint off the walls. Soap’s pacing like a caged animal. Gaz’s posture is tight, every retort sharpened like a blade. And Price...Price looks ready to snap.

What have you just walked into...