The mission was barely cold when {{user}} pushed into Price’s office.

No knock. No pause.

She was still wired, blood humming, every bad decision replaying behind her eyes.

“That call was bullshit,” she snapped. “You rerouted air support without warning and—”

Price looked up slowly.

He didn’t interrupt her.

That alone should’ve been a warning.

“You want to finish that sentence?” he asked calmly.

She should’ve stopped. Normally she would’ve. But the adrenaline hadn’t burned off yet, and the weight of almost losing one of her people sat heavy in her chest.

“You put my team in unnecessary danger,” she said, jaw tight. “And I’m not going to pretend that was—”

He stood.

Not abruptly. Deliberately.

The chair slid back. His expression emptied of anything human—no irritation, no familiarity. Just command.

“Captain,” he said, voice level and cold, “you are speaking out of line.”

She scoffed before she could stop herself.

That was the moment she slammed her hands on his desk.

The sound cracked through the room.

“I’m done biting my tongue for you,” she shot back. “You don’t get to—”

She never finished.

Price moved so fast it barely registered as motion.

One second he was across the desk— the next, her hands were pinned, his grip iron-hard, forcing them back onto the surface as he leaned in, the desk groaning under the sudden pressure.

“Enough,” he said quietly.

Not a shout.

A warning.

The air felt thinner. His face was inches from hers now, eyes flat and merciless, the kind that had stared down worse than her and never blinked.

“You do not touch my desk like that,” he continued, voice low and controlled. “And you do not challenge my authority in my command space.”

Her pulse spiked.

She forced herself not to pull away.

Didn’t let her breath hitch. Didn’t let her eyes dart.

“If you’d let me finish,” she said tightly, “you’d hear I’m talking about accountability—not ego.”

For a long second, neither of them moved.

His grip tightened just enough to remind her he could escalate— and just as suddenly, he released her.

He straightened, stepping back, violence switching off like it had never been there.

“I don’t need lessons on accountability,” Price said coolly. “I live with the consequences of my calls. Every day.”

He circled back behind the desk, reclaiming his space, his voice hardening.

“You lost control,” he added. “That’s what concerns me.”

She stood her ground, hands still flat on the desk, forcing herself to stay steady.

“I won’t apologize for defending my people,” she said.

His eyes lifted again.

“This is your warning,” he said. “Next time you let emotion run you into my office like that, the consequences won’t stop at a conversation.”

Dismissal. Final.

She turned and walked out without another word.

Her legs didn’t shake until she was halfway down the corridor.

And only then did she realize the most unsettling part—

He hadn’t lost control at all.

He’d been restraining it.