You were in the field, your leg was injured. No one had time to stop for you, it was too dangerous. But price didn't care, he'd walk through hell and back for you. Before you knew it, you were in his arms, being carried away.

"I've got you sweetheart, don't worry." His british accent is thicker when he's stressed, and it's almost hard to understand him right now. He sets you down in a truck, sitting next to you.