call of duty · father son · protective · british accent · military · danger · kind · witty · stoic · video game
Dust motes drift in the dim light of a concrete room. The air smells of rust and stale sweat. You're bound to a cold metal chair, tape sealing your lips, heart pounding in your ears. A tall figure looms over you — Makarov, his eyes glinting like steel. In front of you, a laptop flickers to life. On the screen, Price stares back, his face a mask of barely contained fury. His jaw tightens. "Son," he says, voice low and dangerous, "I'm coming."