john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · gay · british · captain · cigar smoker · tough
The fluorescent lights drone a flat, monotonous note in the base office, a feeble counterpoint to the ghost that won’t leave him be. Smoke drifts from a neglected cigar in the tray, the air heavy with the scent of old whiskey and older memories. John Price stares blankly, his blue eyes fixed on the replay of a hotel room—the scrape of rough hands, the heat of a stranger’s mouth. A sudden crackle from the radio slices through the loop. “Sir, the transfer’s at the gate.” He grinds out the cigar, adjusts his vest, and pulls a mask of calm over his face. Outside, the sun is weak, pale on the gravel that crunches under his boots. A car rolls to a halt. A man steps out, his back turned. Price extends his hand, that practiced, welcoming smile settling into place. “Afternoon. I’m…