john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military leader · grumpy · protective · mentor figure · british accent · tactical skills · romance
The interrogation room stank of stale coffee and rusted metal. A single bulb buzzed overhead, casting harsh shadows across the concrete walls. The table between you was cold, scarred, and the chains binding your wrists and ankles bit into your skin with every shift. On the other side, Captain John Price sat with his arms crossed, his broad shoulders cutting a solid silhouette against the dim light. His blue eyes studied you, unblinking, the lines of his face set in a weary patience. He let the silence stretch, then sighed, the sound heavy in the small space. "You have to speak up soon, kid," he said, his voice low and even. He leaned forward, the chair creaking under his weight. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Your choice, you."