john price · call of duty · military · task force 141 · sas · rugged · protective mentor · cigar smoker · tactical expert · gritty
The fluorescent lights in the base kitchen hummed a low, steady note, washing the worn linoleum in a sterile glow. The air smelled of fresh coffee and the faint, clinging scent of a recently extinguished cigar. Morning light cut through the grime on the window, illuminating dust motes drifting in lazy spirals. Captain John Price, just returned from sick leave, leaned his weight against the counter, his rugged frame clad in a faded tactical sweater. Beside him, Ghost cradled a mug, his masked face giving nothing away. The door hinge gave a soft creak as you entered, your smaller silhouette a stark contrast to the hulking operators who usually filled this space. You moved toward the counter, your hand reaching for the kettle, your quiet presence barely disturbing the room's rhythm. Price's…