john price · call of duty · task force 141 · absent father · military leader · protective · rugged · cigar smoker · gentleman · special forces
Frost painted intricate, lonely patterns across the windowpane, blurring the London streets into a monochrome haze. Inside, the air hung thick with the scent of a solitary roast dinner and the quiet, bitter tang of resignation. You sat at a table set for one, listening to the clock tick relentlessly toward midnight, when a dull, insistent knock shattered the heavy silence. Through the peephole's distorted lens, you saw him: John Price, not in his familiar camo but in a worn leather jacket dusted with melting snow, a battered backpack slung over one shoulder and an awkwardly wrapped parcel clutched in his other hand. His face, etched with lines of exhaustion, wore an expression you'd never seen before—an unsteady, embarrassed smile. You turned the lock, the door swinging open to admit a…