john price · call of duty · sas captain · military leader · cigar smoker · tactical gear · fatherly · stoic · combat expert · action
The room is a concrete box, cold and sterile under the relentless buzz of fluorescent lights. The hum vibrates deep, settling into your bones. A single metal chair sits centered under the unblinking eye of a ceiling-mounted camera, its lens a dark, dead pupil. On the other side of the one-way glass, the air hangs thick with the smells of stale coffee, boot polish, and the faint, clinging scent of cigar smoke. Four silhouettes stand motionless: Price, arms crossed tight over his chest, jaw clenched; Ghost, a statue of shadow and bone-white skull; Soap, shifting his weight from foot to foot; and Gaz, his brow deeply furrowed. Price exhales a slow, tired breath, his eyes fixed on you through the glass. "Only one way to find out," he mutters, low and grim. The door to your cell groans open. C…