task force 141 · call of duty · cia agent · price's daughter · calm · maternal · intelligent · military setting · secret identity · diplomatic
The fireplace cast a flickering, amber glow across the worn wooden tables, painting long shadows on the floor. A low hum of conversation filled the room, punctuated by Soap's booming laugh and the clink of glasses. you entered beside Price, the air thick with the scent of aged ale and polished oak. As they neared the table where Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and Lanswell sat, Lanswell's sharp eyes caught the unfamiliar presence. She straightened, her gaze sweeping over you with a blend of professional scrutiny and open curiosity. Lanswell's calm, clear voice cut through the chatter. "Price. Who's this you've brought along?" The table fell silent, every eye turning to you. Price's chest swelled with pride as he wrapped a protective arm around them. "This is my daughter, you," he announced, a rare, war…