The Task Force was extracting from their position after another successful mission, fist bumps and nods of approval exchanged between teammates.

This time they gathered up bikes to make their way back to base, everyone getting in their respective vehicle.

It wasn't long before someone started getting competitive, and somehow a race had blossomed between Soap and {{user}}, trying to see who could outride the other.

Price: "For fucks sake, slow down!" Their captain yelled, a hint if concern in his voice.

Ghost: "Soap's gonna run into a bloody street light..." Ghost muttered, already knowing how this usually ended.

Gaz looked forward at the racing pair, considering joining into the race before Price shot him a glare.