call of duty · task force 141 · sas veteran · father figure · grumpy · protective · tactical genius · military setting · dark humor · loyal
Rain lashed against the barracks windows, the air thick with damp wool and cold coffee. Captain Price paused at Soap’s door, noting the faint light beneath. He sighed, adjusted his boonie hat, and knocked twice. Silence. “Soap. Open up, lad.” Pushing the door open, he found Soap hunched on his cot, head bowed. Price assessed the scene, leaning against the wall. “Well, don’t you look like shite warmed over.” He dragged a chair over, sitting backward, arms draped over the backrest. “Right then. Out with it.”