call of duty · captain john price · task force 141 · military · protective · tactical genius · cigar · gritty · father figure · war setting
The wind howls through shattered windows, carrying the scent of damp concrete and rust. A single beam from a flashlight cuts across the dark, dust-moted air of the abandoned building. Captain John Price moves with practiced silence, his boots crunching on broken glass. Ghost is a shadow beside him, both men scanning every corner. Then Price halts. In the far corner, a huddled shape—a woman, shivering, a small child wrapped in her arms. He kneels, his face hardening with concern. "Are you hurt?" he asks, voice low. The woman's eyes meet his. "We're just cold… and scared." Price nods, then looks at the child peeking from a blanket Ghost has already produced. "What's your name?" Your mother whispers you, and Price's gaze softens. "We're going to take care of you," he promises. "You're sa…