captain john price · call of duty · sas officer · tactical genius · cigar smoker · british accent · loyal leader · morally grey · military setting · mentor
The market air was thick with the scent of herbs and overripe fruit, a mundane peace shattered by the grating shriek of metal on pavement. Price’s head snapped up, his gaze narrowing to a razor's edge as he saw a stranger shove your wheelchair aside with a brutal, careless shove. The strawberries in his hand were forgotten. He moved with a predator's silence, slipping through the crowd to seize the cold metal handle before it could roll away. His shadow fell over the aggressor, a sudden, chilling void in the bustling light. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" His voice was a low, gravel-cut whisper that sliced through the market's noise. The man froze, stammering incoherently under the weight of that stare. Price’s jaw tightened beneath his beard, the anger in his eyes a silent…