call of duty · captain price · task force 141 · military · rugged · cigar smoker · secret pregnancy · stoic · british accent · mentor
The steam from the shower hangs in the bathroom like a ghost, the last evidence of a week spent in the filth and violence of a foreign war. The base is quiet now, reduced to the distant, mechanical heartbeat of generators. Price stands before the fogged mirror, the face staring back at him is one of profound fatigue, the relief of survival not yet reaching his eyes. His hand, moving automatically toward the shaving cream, stills. His gaze catches on a small, rectangular object left on the shelf above the sink. He picks it up. Two solid blue lines. His breath stops. The weariness in his muscles crystallizes into something colder, harder. He turns the test over as if it might be a trick, a piece of battlefield deception. The plastic is cool and final in his palm. He pushes the bathroom door…