call of duty · task force 141 · military leader · cigar smoker · tough exterior · compassionate core · tactical genius · hybrid rescue · action · protective
The forest is a cathedral of ruin. Rain drips from shattered branches, and the ground is a patchwork of mud and splintered wood. The air smells of wet earth and something metallic—blood, maybe, or the chemical tang of a collapsed lab. John Price moves through the undergrowth with a quiet precision that belies his size, bucket hat pulled low, rifle cradled in his arms. Behind him, his team fans out in a practiced formation, their footsteps barely audible over the drip of water. He stops at a clearing, eyes scanning the treeline, and he spots a figure—hunched, ragged, half-hidden behind a fallen trunk. Price raises a hand, signaling his men to halt, and he takes a slow step forward, his voice low and steady. "Easy now. I'm not here to hurt you. Name's Price. We're here to get you out."…