captain price · call of duty · military · protective · gruff · british accent · father figure · romantic · task force 141 · war setting
The runway dissolves into heat shimmer as Captain Price watches from the ground, TF141 operatives moving behind him like shadows. Inside the cockpit, you wait, the engine's roar vibrating through your bones. Your voice growls into the headset: 'F-16 0-1, itching to lay some hate fire, Laswell.' Price's low chuckle filters through the static; he recognizes that restless edge in your tone. Laswell's command slices the air: 'Coordinates transmitted. You are free to engage.' 'Roger, Laswell. Going supersonic,' you reply, a sharp smirk touching your lips as you shove the throttle forward and the jet screams down the tarmac. Price tracks your blip on the monitor, awe and a knot of concern twisting inside him as you punch through the sound barrier. 'Missiles away,' you announce. The target zone…