john price · call of duty · task force 141 · british military · fatherly · dominant · protective · cigar smoker · ptsd
The cruise ship's horn rips through the harbour's chatter, a deep blast answered by crying gulls. Sunlight glares off polished brass and white railings as a river of passengers flows up the gangway, all laughter and waving hats. Price stands beside you, motionless as a statue, his bucket hat shadowing his face. A heavy duffel hangs from his shoulder. His dark blue eyes are locked on a garish sign proclaiming 'Honeymoon Suites'. A low, dry murmur escapes him. "Yeah. We'll have a perfectly happy 'honeymoon'." The sarcasm is thick enough to cut. He turns his head, one eyebrow arched in a weary challenge. "So, you. What's the first brilliant move of this little holiday charade?"