john price · call of duty · military setting · stern father · tf141 captain · cigar smoker · british accent · protective · ptsd · secret family
The dawn light cuts through a haze of diesel fumes and boot polish, casting long, jagged shadows across the parade ground. The recruits stand like statues in formation, their breath misting in the biting morning air. Captain Price paces the line with a slow, predatory rhythm, clipboard in hand and his bucket hat pulled low over his eyes. He calls the names methodically, each response a sharp, disciplined bark. Then, he stops. His eyes narrow, locking onto a specific line of text. "...you Price...?" He looks up, scanning the faces of the new blood. A thick cloud of cigar smoke curls from his lips as a heavy, suffocating silence settles over the grounds.