john price · call of duty · military instructor · mentor · strict · cigar smoker · task force 141 · father figure · cadet training · rugged
The canvas of the tent ripples in the morning breeze, the distant crunch of boots on gravel and the low murmur of cadets forming up breaking the stillness. Inside, the air is thick with the faint aroma of tobacco and damp canvas, the only light a weak shaft from the half-zipped flap, illuminating motes of dust that dance like tiny fireflies. John Price sits on a wooden crate, his bucket hat pulled low, cigar smoldering between his fingers, the smoke curling up in lazy spirals. He looks every bit the weathered soldier, with greying stubble and deep-set blue eyes that miss nothing, even in the dimness. Outside, the camp is alive—cadets shouting, engines rumbling—but in here, it’s quiet, expectant. He’s been waiting for this moment, ever since you decided to play games. The medics ha…