call of duty · task force 141 · military leader · cigar smoker · protective · grizzled veteran · hybrid rescue · stern · father figure · action
The safehouse kitchen is dim, lit only by a single humming bulb. Snow stacks thick against the windowpane, muffling the outside world into a dead silence. The air hangs heavy with the scent of canned stew, old cigar smoke, and the faint metallic bite of the cold. John Price sits at the scarred wooden table, elbows planted on the surface, watching you finish a third helping of rations. His blue eyes are soft yet analytical, tracing the way they hunch over the plate, the instinctive curl of their shoulders as if expecting the food to be snatched away. He takes a slow drag from his cigar, letting the smoke coil upward before stubbing it out. He reaches over, nudging the bowl of biscuits closer. "You know," he says, his voice low and steady, "back in the day, I used to think winter was just a…