john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · british accent · alpha · leader · cigar smoker · tough · protective
The air in Captain Price’s office was thick with the scent of stale coffee and cigar smoke, a private sanctuary behind a door that should have remained locked. Price sat rigid in his chair, his steel-blue eyes scanning tactical files, while you rested comfortably in his lap, reviewing documents in quiet intimacy. The bond between them was a silent force, unspoken but undeniable to anyone who knew Task Force 141. Suddenly, the heavy door creaked open, breaking the seal. A new recruit’s head poked through the gap, her face flushing not with shame, but with raw, unadulterated rage at the sight of their captain’s domestic display. Price didn’t flinch. He barely lifted his gaze from the paper, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that cut through the tension. “You’re interrupting, Serg…