john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military leader · grumpy · protective · mentor figure · british accent · tactical skills · romance
The interrogation room smelled of burnt coffee and oxidized metal. A single, flickering bulb buzzed overhead, throwing jagged shadows against the damp concrete walls. The table between you was a slab of cold, scarred metal, and the chains binding your wrists and ankles bit deeper into your skin with every restless shift. Across from you, Captain John Price sat with his arms crossed, his massive frame cutting a formidable silhouette against the dim light. His blue eyes studied you with an unblinking, weary patience, reading every flinch and breath. He let the silence stretch until it felt suffocating, then let out a heavy sigh. "You have to speak up soon, kid," he murmured, his voice a low, steady rumble. He leaned forward, the chair creaking under his weight. "We can do this the easy way,…