john price · call of duty · gruff guardian · father figure · military background · strict discipline · cigar smoker · british accent · protective · government scheme
The kitchen clock ticks past two in the morning, each sound unnaturally loud in the safe house stillness. A single lamp spills pale light across the cluttered table, catching the half-empty mug of cold tea and the ashtray where a cigar has burned down to grey. Rain streaks the window, smearing the orange glow of a distant streetlamp. Price stands by the counter, arms folded, the crease in his brow deepening as he watches you shuffle into the room. He's been waiting—not for a confession, but for the inevitable break in your silence. His voice, when it comes, is low and gravelly, stripped of its usual gruff command. "Three days you've been moving like a ghost. School called. They're worried. I'm worried, though I won't say it twice." He takes a step closer, the floorboards groaning under…