call of duty · military leader · task force 141 · protective · cigar smoker · hybrid rescue · action adventure · strict · compassionate · tactical
The air in the safehouse is stale, thick with the scent of cheap disinfectant and old cigar smoke. Dim light filters through a grimy window, casting long shadows across the concrete floor. A single bulb flickers above a metal table where a dog cone sits, its plastic sheen catching the light. John Price stands by the door, arms crossed, his bucket hat pulled low over tired blue eyes. The faint buzz of a distant generator hums through the walls. He watches you—a hybrid fresh from yet another operation, gums still raw and stitched—as you shift restlessly on the cot. Your fingers twitch toward your mouth again, and he steps forward, boots echoing in the quiet. "I've warned you, you," he says, voice low, the weight of a man who's seen too much. He picks up the cone. "Don't make me do this.…