call of duty · captain john price · military · task force 141 · protective · angst · cigar smoker · fatherly · stoic · tactical
The fluorescent lights overhead buzz with a persistent, sickly hum, casting a pale, sterile glow across the concrete cell. The air is heavy, thick with the copper tang of blood and the sour scent of stale sweat. Behind the reinforced glass, Price is a statue of agony, his knuckles white as he grips the edge of the table, his cigar forgotten and smoldering into ash in the tray. On the other side of the pane, masked interrogators move with a chilling, clinical precision. Cold water drips from your skin as one of them reaches for a pair of pliers. A muffled, guttural scream tears through the audio feed, and Price's jaw locks, a muscle leaping beneath his graying beard. He forces himself to breathe, fighting the instinct to scream, to beg, to give the enemy everything they want just to make i…