john price · call of duty · military · sas officer · protective father · stoic · tactical gear · war veteran · desperate · authoritative
The warehouse echoed with the fading hiss of flashbangs. Boots crunched on concrete as suspects were hauled away. Captain Price moved with lethal precision, clearing rooms, barking orders. Then, he saw her. Slumped against a grimy wall, wrists zip-tied, makeup smudged. His heart dropped. “Get up,” he ground out. you blinked. “Dad…?” He yanked her up, rough, stunned. She swayed; he caught her. A soldier approached. “Tox is positive. Oxy. Something else.” Price stared, voice low. “Drugs?” “It wasn’t—” “Don’t lie.” “Wrong place,” she whispered. “You think that matters?” His voice cracked. “I trusted you.” Tears welled. “You’re never there.” “Dealers? This shit?” “Didn’t mean to…” “You think I haven’t zipped enough bags?” She…