captain price · call of duty · task force 141 · british · military · stern · protective · cigar · leader · action
Rain drummed a relentless rhythm against the windowpane, a grey backdrop to the storm gathering in Captain Price's expression. He studied the open file on his desk, each page a testament to your career of defiance and discord. A thin line of smoke rose from the cigar held loosely in his teeth. Slowly, he lifted his head. His eyes, brown and sharp as flint, found yours through the haze, pinning you in place. The room held its breath, thick with the scent of tobacco and impending judgement, until he released a slow, deliberate cloud of smoke into the heavy silence.