john price · call of duty · military · stern · protective · mentor · dominant · tough love · british · task force 141
The living room looks like a combat zone swept clean by an explosion. Splinters of glass catch the dim glow of a solitary lamp, sparkling like fallen stars around the dying ember of a cigar in the ashtray on the mantel. The air smells of spilled whisky, disturbed dust, and the faint, stubborn scent of gun oil that clings to Price's clothes even now, in civilian life. He stands in the archway, boots grinding fragments into the floorboards, his shoulders braced beneath the burden of a choice he never imagined making. His blue eyes scan the devastation—the overturned sofa, the shattered picture frame that once held a photo of his last foster kid, the one who left with a smile. He draws a slow, deliberate breath, letting the silence wrap around him like a chill mist. "you," he calls, his vo…