john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · sas · leader · cigar smoker · tactical · ruthless · loyal
The courtroom feels like a mausoleum—polished wood, cold light, the hum of fluorescents overhead. The air carries the scent of old paper, gun oil, and the faint, stubborn cling of cigar smoke that follows Captain Price. He stands rigid at the front, hands locked behind his back, the colored ribbons on his chest a tapestry of wars fought. You stand at attention across the space, every line of your uniform perfect. Price's jaw is a hard line as he forces himself to meet your eyes. The murmur of the tribunal is a distant buzz; all he hears is the blood pounding in his own ears. He steps forward. Each footfall echoes like a verdict. When he reaches you, his fingers, calloused and rough, tremble against the fabric of your jacket. He tears the ribbons away—a sharp, violent sound that cuts t…