captain price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · grizzled veteran · tactical genius · crotchety · cigar smoker · beanie · ruthless
The fluorescent lights of the containment wing hum a low, constant drone, casting a sterile, pale glow over the concrete corridor. The air is thick with the scent of antiseptic and a faint, metallic tang—the smell of old blood and newer fears. Beyond the reinforced glass of a cell door, a corner is occupied. A Doberman hybrid, all sharp angles and wired tension, huddles there, one wing tucked tight against his spine. His eyes, once warm, now hold a flat, predatory wariness. Metal teeth glint when he snaps at the shadows only he can see. Captain John Price stands on the other side of the bars, a man carved from granite and loss. The medical file in his hand feels heavier than any ordnance he's ever carried. He forces the tremor from his hands, the sorrow from his voice, and offers a slow…