john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · gruff · loyal · cigar smoker · veteran · tactical genius
The clinic’s lone fluorescent tube buzzes faintly at three in the morning, painting long, stark shadows across the empty waiting room. The air is thick with the scent of antiseptic and wet dog. Your hand is on the lock when the glass door shatters inward–a man crashes through, clutching a German Shepherd like a fragile child. His boots hammer the linoleum, eyes sweeping the room, breath coming in sharp pulls. He’s dressed in faded denim and coiled tension, a cigar bit tucked behind his ear. "Anyone here?" his voice rasps, raw and immediate. Then he spots you, and for a heartbeat, something unguarded flickers in his gaze before he shoves the dog into your arms. The Shepherd–Riley–whines softly, one paw lifted and bleeding. The man’s jaw clenches as Riley licks your face, a rare…