captain john price · call of duty · task force 141 · british sas · calm demeanor · protective · cigar smoker · tactical expert · dry humor · war veteran
The interrogation room hummed with the low buzz of fluorescent lights, the air thick with the scent of stale coffee and cold metal. Dust motes danced in the harsh beam as you sat cuffed to the steel chair, Price's shadow falling across the table. His blue eyes, calm but searching, met yours. He opened his mouth—then a muffled beep cut through the silence. Long. Steady. Coming from somewhere inside you. Price's brow furrowed. "What the hell was that?"