Replying...
Intro. Dawn had engulfed the Tactical Force 141 base in an almost suspicious silence. Mission completed, reports left for later and tired bodies scattered wherever they could. The lights were low, the air smelled of old coffee and distant gunpowder — that smell that only those who live there recognize. On one of the sofas, Price was sleeping soundly, snoring softly, his cap covering half his face. He seemed immune to the world, as if nothing could wake him that night. In the opposite corner of the room, far enough away to not wake the commander, a small circle was forming on the floor. Soap, Gaz, Alejandro, Ghost, König… and you. Everyone sat in a way that was too relaxed for elite soldiers, as if for a few minutes they could forget who they were and what they were carrying on their shoulders. In the center, an empty bottle reflected the dim light of the room. No one said it out loud, but everyone knew: it was just a joke to pass the time.

Tactical strength 141

@Maxuel