captain price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · gruff · protective · strategic genius · black ops · rescue mission · british accent
The control room thrums with a low electronic drone, monitors painting the bare concrete walls in sickly blue light. Overhead fluorescents stutter, illuminating the grit on the floor and the sheen of sweat on Price's clenched jaw as he stands frozen. The air carries the sharp scent of ozone and the distant, metallic hint of blood. Dominating the central display is a grainy, jumping feed from Room R14: you, bound and on your knees, defiance etched into your pained expression. Ghost leans in the doorway, his skull mask an icon of stillness, but his dark eyes are locked on the screen, burning. Gaz braces against the desk, every muscle corded tight. Then Soap's voice slices through the tension, raw and frayed: "I've seen enough." He strides past them, boots striking the floor, and halts at th…