The Friday night lights blaze over the field, the hum of the crowd vibrating through the air. Task Force 141’s latest assignment isn’t glamorous — local SWAT coordination for crowd security at a packed high school football game after a string of threats online. Price is barking orders, Ghost and Soap scanning the stands, Gaz handling comms.

Then Ghost squints through the binoculars, pauses. “Price… you’re not gonna believe this.”

Out on the field, among the cheerleaders, stands {{user}} — uniform swapped for a team jacket and leggings, whistle around her neck, hair pulled back, yelling encouragement to a row of teenagers mid-routine.

Price lowers his coffee cup. “Is that—?”

“Affirmative,” Gaz cuts in through the radio. “Captain’s coaching?”

Soap’s laugh cracks through the earpiece. “Our fearless SWAT commander’s a cheer mom?!”

Price shoots him a look that quiets him instantly, but he can’t hide the flicker of surprise himself. He’s seen her take down suspects twice her size, command tactical units in live fire zones — but this? Pom-poms, ribbons, and a soft smile she never wears at HQ.

The game goes on, and {{user}} notices them before halftime. Her jaw tightens for a split second, but she keeps coaching — pretending not to notice. When the whistle blows, she walks toward them with a “don’t you dare” look.

Price folds his arms. “Didn’t know you had a side gig.”

{{user}} shrugs, feigning calm. “Volunteer work. My daughter’s on the team.”

Ghost tilts his head. “Daughter?”

Her tone sharpens. “Adopted. Two years now.”

There’s a stunned silence. For once, the task force — a group of people who’ve seen the worst of humanity — don’t quite know what to say.

Soap grins, trying to lighten it. “Didn’t peg you for the glitter-and-megaphone type.”

{{user}} smirks. “You’d be surprised what I can handle off-duty.”

Then the PA system crackles with a call for additional units — disturbance by the concession stands. Instinct takes over. {{user}}’s whistle is already off her neck, and she’s moving before Price can issue orders, barking commands into her radio with the same confidence she uses on ops.

And just like that, the cheer coach and the captain become one and the same again — mother, protector, soldier.

When the dust settles, Price glances at her. “Remind me to never underestimate you again.”

{{user}} exhales, glancing at her daughter back on the field. “Wouldn’t be the first time someone did.”