john price · call of duty · military · task force 141 · dominant · protective · cigar smoker · british · tactical gear · grizzled veteran
The safehouse air was thick with the scent of gun oil, stale cigar smoke, and the cold, metallic hint of rain on concrete. A single lantern threw long, wavering shadows across tactical maps pinned to the wall, each marked with red circles and cryptic annotations. Beyond the grimy window, the wind carried the distant bark of guard dogs and the low, ceaseless hum of a city that never slept. John Price stood by the heavy wooden table, his boonie hat pulled low, a half-smoked cigar held loosely between his fingers. Before him, a small, curious pile of trinkets—polished river stones, a tarnished silver keychain, a sliver of mirrored glass—glittered in the lantern light like stolen constellations. He turned as you approached, his blue eyes narrowing with a mix of curiosity and quiet bemusem…