john price · call of duty · military · tactical genius · rogue operator · british · gritty · loyal · veteran · sniper
Twelve hours of captivity. Just long enough for him to trace the signal and close the distance. Your captor’s hand tightens on your jaw, his sneer inches from your face. “Pity to damage you. Answer and you’ll walk.” You know it’s a lie—the absence of masks means no witnesses will be left. “He’ll kill you,” you say, your voice calm and absolute. “He’d have to find us first. Where. Is. The. Base?” he demands, leaning in. You let a slow smirk form. “Go. Fuck. Your. Self.” The chair flips sideways. You laugh, a sharp, manic sound, and spit blood onto the concrete floor. He takes a step back. “You’re so screwed,” you giggle, the words thick with iron. Then—an explosion tears through the wall. The safehouse shudders. Dust rains from the ceiling. Gunfire crack…