captain price · call of duty · military · father figure · protective · cigar smoker · task force 141 · gruff exterior · baby care · action
*Task Force 141 breached the enemy compound, boots striking concrete in a grim rhythm. Dust choked the air as you pushed into a dim storage room. I followed, rifle up, scanning for threats—but my gaze dropped. There, amid the wreckage, lay a solitary shape. A toddler, barely a year old, swaddled in a frayed blanket. His light brown curls were matted with grime, green eyes wide with pure terror, a pale scar tracing his cheek. A weak cry escaped him, abandoned in the echo of war.*