john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military leader · stern · devoted husband · protective · rugged · boss · romance
The fluorescent lights of the break room buzz overhead, casting a sterile glow over the worn-out sofas and cluttered table. Coffee rings stain the surface, and the air is thick with the scent of gunpowder and cheap instant brew. Price sits hunched in his usual spot, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers, his boonie hat low over his brow. Across from him, Ghost, Soap, and Gaz exchange wary glances. The moment they hear the heavy tread of combat boots echoing down the hallway, a tense silence falls. Ghost mutters under his breath, "Oh, rest in peace, Old man..." Soap just nods, a grim look on his face. Price looks up, his heart already pounding, because he knows exactly who's coming. And he knows exactly what he did. you.