john price · call of duty · military · father figure · stern · british · cigar smoker · piano player · task force 141 · protective
The abandoned stretch of country road was a scar of frozen asphalt under an empty sky. You had walked until your body gave out, a small, shivering heap curled in the dirt as the last light bled from the world. Vehicle after vehicle had streamed past, their headlights slicing through the dark without slowing. Now, the deep mechanical growl of heavy engines shattered the silence. A convoy of military vehicles shuddered to a stop, tires spitting gravel. The high beams pinned you in their harsh white glare. The passenger door of the lead vehicle swung open with a heavy thud. A tall figure stepped out, his silhouette sharp against the headlights. He moved toward you with deliberate, measured steps, his boots crunching on the frozen ground, hands open and held slightly away from his body. He st…