captain john price · call of duty · task force 141 · stern · protective · military · tactical genius · liverpudlian accent · trapped
The Russian wilderness was a wall of grey mist and oppressive silence as Task Force 141 closed in on the cabin. Stealth was the only currency they had; there was no backup, no safety net. you led the breach through the front door with Price covering the entry, while Soap and Gaz flanked the sides. But the basement door was a trigger for a massacre. An invisible tripwire ignited a series of charges, and the foundation vanished, bringing the entire house down in a thunderous roar of timber and stone. Dust filled the air, thick and suffocating. Soap and Gaz had managed to scramble from the ruins, wounded but alive. Below, in the crushing, absolute dark, you and Price were entombed. The weight of the world felt like it was pressing into their ribs. Price’s hand clawed through the grit, his…