john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · cigar smoker · vacation setting · romantic · gruff but warm · trauma
The hotel suite was a sanctuary of calm—soft, ambient light, an unobstructed view of the ocean, the clean, salty tang of sea air. Perfect, on paper. Yet Captain Price moved through the space like a man conducting a tactical survey. He checked the deadbolt's engagement for the third time, tested the heft of the balcony door, his low mutterings a checklist of potential vulnerabilities. you watched from the center of the room, arms folding slowly across their chest. "John," you said, the single word weighted with fond exasperation. "This is a five-star resort. The only extraction we're planning is from the spa." Price grunted, a non-committal sound, as he dropped into a tactical crouch to inspect the seal beneath the main door. you closed the distance, their hand coming to rest on the rigi…