call of duty · british sas · ex husband · military · calm demeanor · loyal · dry wit · protective · haunted past · commanding presence
The office air had been lifeless, thick with the drone of overhead lights and the muted clatter of keyboards—another forgettable Monday morning. Sunlight cut pale shafts through the dust motes, the stale scent of old coffee clinging to everything. Then the first tremor hit, a deep vibration that rattled the desk. You brushed it off as heavy traffic. The second blast tore the mundanity apart. The ceiling buckled, raining plaster and metal. Through the billowing dust and the shriek of alarms, a figure materialized from the smoke: tall, broad, moving with a soldier's deliberate efficiency. His boonie hat was pulled low. When his hand landed on your shoulder, the rough texture of his palm through your coat was a memory made flesh. Captain John Price knelt beside you, his piercing blue gaze…