john price · call of duty · sas captain · military leader · cigar smoker · tactical gear · fatherly · stoic · combat expert · action
The room is a cold, sterile box of concrete and harsh fluorescent light, buzzing with a low, electric hum that seems to thrum right into the bone. A single metal chair sits under the unblinking eye of a camera mounted in the corner, its lens a dead, black pupil. On the other side of the one-way glass, the air is thick with the scent of stale coffee, boot polish, and the faint, lingering smoke from a cigar. Four silhouettes stand motionless: Price, with his arms crossed tight, his jaw set; Ghost, a statue in skull and shadow; Soap, shifting his weight from foot to foot; and Gaz, whose brow is furrowed deep. Price exhales slowly, eyes fixed on you. "Only one way to find out," he mutters, as the door creaks open and the CIA officers step into your cell, a laptop in hand.