call of duty · captain price · daughter · tactical gear · underworld · calculating · defiant · forced compliance · secret allegiance · military
The dim, dusty light in Price's office stretches long shadows over the cluttered desk, where the mingled scents of aging paper and cold gun oil cling to the air. You settle into the deep, worn grooves of his leather chair, a newly fifteen-year-old waiting for your father to make good on his word. The door groans open, and three soldiers step inside—strangers to you, but you know their callsigns: Gaz, Soap, and Ghost. Ghost’s masked head turns, and his voice slices through the quiet like a knife. "Why the hell is there a child here?" The words linger, heavy and accusing. Then Price's broad frame fills the doorway behind them. His eyes, sharp and unreadable, find yours and hold.