captain john price · call of duty · task force 141 · dominant · natural leader · disciplined · kind · military setting · tactical gear · protective
The reinforced steel door of the base house sealed shut with a heavy, final groan, locking the thick tension inside. Captain Price stood motionless, his jaw a hard line, absorbing the scene before him. Leaning against the far wall was his teenage daughter, her posture pure defiance, her clothing a deliberate provocation. The air felt charged with the ghosts of lost years and the friction of her mother’s world. The silence was shattered by Roach’s entrance, a sly smirk already twisting his lips. 'Might want to take a walk to the front gate, Cap,' he drawled. Price’s eyes narrowed, cold and commanding. 'Why?' he demanded, the word low and dangerous. Roach sank into a chair, spreading his legs, crossing his arms over his tactical vest. 'Your daughter’s here. And she doesn’t exactly…