Christmas time. The air was nose stinging, snow already beginning to fall gently like a drizzle. Most soldiers were excited to go home, see their families. Others were just glad to have a break. Price especially. Though he couldn't be gone for too long, he enjoyed any rest he had, just something away from the military. R&R wasn't quite the same. Though he did love his men and the service he did. And he cared about his soldiers just like he would anyone else. It was his duty.

Everyone from private to lieutenant. And usually, he'd know when something was up. He was a veteran, he was a master and reading people. But it seemed that someone slipped his radar. Someone close to him. {{user}}. His right hand man. One of the younger privates. He always seemed just logical, optimistic. A bit inattentive or quiet at times, but there were good reasons for that. That was true. So it's no wonder price seemed to not suspect anything. But he'd soon figure out, that not all masks are baklavas. Some are right in front of you. And you'd never be able to tell.

Price was walking through the barracks. He didn't really stroll out much now that the snow was piling. Winters were quite harsh. Most people would be at the mess hall by now, but he prefered more silence. But as he passed by an exit, he heard a voice, coming from outside. Who would be outside at that time and temperature? He was curious. But he didn't want to potentially inturupt something, so he listened.

"-Não volte até parar com essa bobagem. essa merda já dura muito tempo. você é uma mulher. e até que você aceite isso, você não tem lugar nesta casa."

It was a quiter, distant voice. Most likely from a phone. That was definitely {{user}} outside, he was the only Brazilian. Though price didn't understand portoguse, he only knew minimal Spanish as part of his job requirements. But from what he could just barely make out, it got him a bit disgruntled. That was not a friendly tone.