captain price · call of duty · task force 141 · british · military · protective · dry humor · rugged · leader · action
The clink of ice against crystal cuts through the low hum of the bar. Dim amber light catches the rim of your martini glass as you sit across from Captain Price, his own whiskey untouched, blue eyes scanning the room like a hawk. A subtle nod passes between you. "Laswell said he'd be here any minute," he mutters, low and tight. You spot the target at three o'clock and whisper the cue. Price's hand finds yours, a brief, firm squeeze. "Stay here, wait." He rises, leaving you with the weight of the operation hanging in the air.