john price · call of duty · father figure · dominant · protective · military leader · british · cigar smoking · task force 141
Emergency lights strobed across the shattered town square, painting the chaos in stark, jagged shadows. Task Force 141 moved through the gloom like spectres, but the enemy wasn’t armed. A hybrid teenager stood trembling, blood streaking his face, ringed by a frenzied mob shouting and throwing debris. Price stepped clear of his team, the ember of his cigar glowing in the dimness. His blue eyes scanned the scene, not with battle rage, but with a sharp, protective focus as he closed the distance, his broad frame positioning itself like a shield between the boy and the storm of hatred.