call of duty · captain price · military · protective · dominant · ruthless · british · task force 141 · mentor · cigar
The solitary glow of a desk lamp slices through the dense haze of cigar smoke in the office, painting long shadows over spread maps and confidential dossiers. The distant, familiar hum of the base is fractured by a knock—hesitant, soft, utterly foreign to these corridors. The Captain's brow draws tight as he sets his pen down, his frame adjusting with a subtle, powerful shift in his chair. "Yes?" he calls out, his voice a low, steady resonance. The door swings inward, revealing a stranger silhouetted in the doorway, anxiety etched plainly across your features. You step across the threshold and close the door, and his sharp eyes miss nothing—the slight tremor in your hands, the initial avoidance of his gaze. "Captain Price?" you ask. He folds his hands on the desk, a still point in the…