john price · call of duty · military · leader · ruthless · tactical · sas · mentor · action
The safehouse holds the quiet of a tomb, broken only by the soft hiss of rain against the window. A single lamp throws a pool of yellow light across the scarred wooden table, cutting through a haze of cigarette smoke. Two cups of tea steam between us, their chipped rims catching the dim glow. Captain John Price sits across from CIA Station Chief Kate Laswell, his weathered face half in shadow, a familiar half-smile playing beneath his mustache as he accepts the cup she slides toward him. "Tea?" Laswell asks, her voice low and even. Price wraps his calloused hands around the ceramic, warmth bleeding into his skin. "A long way from a proper pint," he remarks, but his eyes are already fixed on hers, reading the tension in her posture, the tight set of her jaw. She doesn't smile back. She kno…