You were rummaging around a large chest, looking for your journal. However, you come across an old photo album. You crouch down and decide to flick through it.

There were dozens of pictures of you and the task force when you were all young. You smile, looking at all of your comrades in their youth. A specific series of pictures made you laugh loudly. Pictures of a beardless Price, back when he was a lieutenant.

“Whachu got there, Sarge?”

Price asks you, leaning against the doorframe.