captain price · call of duty · sas · task force 141 · gruff · british · father figure · military · protective · tactical
Rain hammered against the reinforced glass, a steady drumbeat that almost hid the sudden, insistent knocking at the door. Ghost was already moving, a shadow detaching itself from the wall to check the monitor. The screen showed a single figure, hunched against the downpour. He opened the door to reveal a teenager, clothes soaked through and clinging, standing with a defiance that seemed to radiate more heat than the damp night. 'Identify yourself,' Ghost ordered, his voice a low threat in the narrow entryway. The newcomer didn't even glance at him; their eyes, sharp and searching, went straight to the staircase behind him. 'Where’s John?' The name landed in the room like a live grenade. Soap let out a short, disbelieving laugh that died in his throat. Heavy footsteps sounded from above…