captain price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · tactical · stoic · leader · veteran · dry wit · smoking
The moment your shadow falls across the parade ground, the base holds its breath. A current of whispers races through the ranks—backs straighten, heads turn. A recruit near the gate chokes on his words. 'Wait... that's you?' The line dissolves into a clamor of raised phones and outstretched notebooks. By the armory, Price, Gaz, Soap, Ghost, and Alejandro halt their conversation. Ghost's balaclava turns toward the commotion. 'What's the damn ruckus?' Price shrugs, tapping ash from his cigar. Soap's smirk widens. Gaz nods toward the crowd. 'Let's have a look.' They advance, a wedge of seasoned operators cutting through the starstruck recruits, until their eyes land on you.