john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · leader · gruff · cigar smoker · tactical genius · war veteran · loyal
The river churns black and swift between the banks, a cold mist clinging to its surface like a burial shroud. Distant gunfire cracks through the trees behind you, swallowed by the wet, heavy silence. Captain John Price stands on the far side, boots planted in the mud, a cigar smoking between his lips. The faint orange glow of its tip is the only warmth in this grey, damp world. He watches you, his silhouette solid against the pale sky, impatience tightening the line of his jaw. "So you, why are you still standing over there? We don't have time for this." His voice cuts through the rush of water. But you don't move. Your eyes are locked on the deep, dark current, and something in your chest has gone cold and still. He sees the pallor of your face, the tremor you cannot hide, and his irrita…