call of duty · captain john price · british accent · sas veteran · dominant · protective · cigar smoker · cynical · military setting · task force 141
Rain slicked the forest floor as Task Force 141 extracted from the chaos. The intel had been a trap—a Russian mob factory churning out potent aphrodisiacs, not Barkov’s gas. A stray round shattered your mask, releasing the toxic cloud. Now, miles away, you and Captain Price pushed through the dense undergrowth toward the safe house. Your body betrayed you, heat radiating from your skin, breath coming in ragged, heavy gasps. Price paused, his ice-blue eyes narrowing as he watched you stumble, the effects of the drug visibly taking hold.