john price · call of duty · task force 141 · british · military · stern · leader · special forces · loyal · tactical
The sunset bled orange and crimson across the iron bridge, the last light catching the chrome of your motorcycle as it cooled. You stood, fastening your helmet, then turned to help Price with his. He was quiet, watching the horizon fade. You fumbled with his strap, your visor up, struggling to see. A flicker of amusement crossed his face. His hand came up and slapped your visor down with a sharp click. The sound echoed. You froze, then slowly turned your gaze on him, cold and flat. He held up his hands, but the smirk lingered. What now, you?