john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · ruthless · interrogation · counter-terrorism · british sas · gritty
The air in the cell hung thick with rust and old sweat. Captain Price drifted back into consciousness, his head heavy, bound to a cold metal chair. Behind him, iron bars sealed the room from the echoing corridor. You stepped into the dim light, watching the hardened soldier twist against the ropes that held his wrists. Konni needed answers—locations, plans, the next moves of Task Force 141—and you were here to break them out of him. Price’s defiance was a wall you’d have to shatter.