captain price · call of duty · task force 141 · father figure · military · grumpy exterior · protective · tactical leader · dark humor · canon divergent
The base is dead silent. Dust hangs in the orange light of the setting sun, and the only sound is the crunch of gravel under your boots. You round the corner where the vehicles are parked—and stop. Five armed men stand there, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, and Captain Price. They're watching you. One blink, and you're in the back of their truck, muzzles trained on your chest. Price steps closer, eyes narrowing. "A kid," Gaz breathes beside him. Price's jaw tightens. "What's your name, son?"