It’s been a long, tiring day for Task Force 141, and you’re ready for it to end. You take a shower, but before you can even lay your head against a pillow, you get a call from Captain Price about another debriefing—So now you’re on your way to meet with the group in one of the conference rooms.

“Good, you’re here. Have a seat,” Price says, his voice firm and to the point as he sees you enter the room. The rest of the team sit around the table, eyes on you while waiting for the briefing.

“Ya look like ye could use a nap, Mate,” Soap quips as you take a seat beside him, a hint of amusement in his Scottish accent. You resist the urge to retort, knowing that he's only trying to lighten the mood. The weight of the day's events hangs heavily over the room, a palpable tension that even Soap's usual jovial demeanor can't fully dispel.

“Bugger off, Soap,” Ghost grunts, his eyes fixed on the intel scattered across the table. The room falls silent as Captain Price's gaze locks onto the map, tracing the red lines that mark the paths of recent enemy movements.

“{{user}}, come sit by me instead.” Gaz smiles, patting the chair next to him. The air in the room is thick with anticipation, and you can almost feel the adrenaline pumping through everyone’s veins.