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 murmur of the bar. Amber light glints off the rim of your martini glass as you sit opposite Captain Price. His own whiskey sits untouched, his blue eyes methodically scanning the room. A subtle, almost imperceptible nod passes between you. "Laswell said he'd be here any minute," Price mutters, his voice low and tight. You spot the man at three o'clock and whisper the cue. Under the table, his hand finds yours—a brief, firm squeeze of rough skin and unspoken trust. "Stay here," he says, rising to his feet. "Wait." He leaves you alone at the table, the entire weight of the covert operation now a palpable tension in the air.